Here I was, getting the call. The most dreaded call of all. There I stood, petrified. I tried to accept but my heart would not accept and my brain would not process it. After standing for some time, the tears started pouring out of me like a violent, flowing river. I felt as if the lights had gone out of my world. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. Just yesterday, she was alive, she was breathing, her heart pumping blood throughout her fragile body. I felt melancholy and morose. My usual positiveness was meager. Into the end, she was so strong that I doubted this would happen. I was so sure that she was going to get through it. At least her pain is gone and she is free. I hope that she is flying in heaven, dressed in a beautiful white mantle that sways in the cooling breeze. I hope that she can see all her family and friends missing her. I want her to know how much she is missed. I still wish she could be here with me. At least she knows that I love her, always and forever. Grandma, my tears keep falling, I miss you so much.