At this time, no one knew what she really meant. So we would all just say, “Yes, we do too Grandma, but you’re not better so you’ll have to stay a while longer.” I realized later on that she meant that she wanted to go to Heaven.

The floor Grandma died on, the one that I would visit almost every day. She would sit in that big white bed and say, “I want to go home.”

It was like one of those hospitals in the movies right before a death scene. Everyone was smiling but they were always phony as usual. I knew that behind those smiles were worried, or hopeless, or scared faces. Everything you could think of on his floor was white, everything.

I hate that smell. The smell of that floor. The smell of sick, elderlies. With their long, confusing hallways. The place where the time goes by slowly but it’s always a rush. A t night it was a scary place, barely any light.
Patients grasping for air.
Never knowing if they will wake up in the morning.

At that moment, we didn’t know a lot of things. I didn’t know I was that close to my Grandma, honestly. I also didn’t know that she was my inspiration. I didn’t think she was going to die; everyone in my family was always strong enough to pull through it.

I miss my Grandma. I can’t wait to see her again. I still think about her every now and then, but I don’t start to cry as much anymore. My world changed when I found out that she was gone. I know she’s happy right now and that she’s in a good place. So I’m not worried. That’s my story.