The Significance of the Moment | Teen Ink

The Significance of the Moment

December 1, 2016
By cjm21 BRONZE, Clarkston, Michigan
cjm21 BRONZE, Clarkston, Michigan
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I believe that everyone should have their dog cage moment.  You may be wondering what this is.  For me, it was an experience with my Mom’s Dad, or Grandpops to me.  It was my last moment with him before he suddenly passed and it has and will stick with me for  the rest of my life.  This event is what inspires me to do many things in my life and what keeps me pushing. 


It was just another trip to Grammy and Grandpops’ house - for all I knew.  Mom and Grammy were chatting up a storm - as usual - except this time it was soft and had a dull feeling to it.  I didn’t let this stop me from having fun with Grandpops, however.  We wrestled and ran around, as Max, the little and energetic dog, jumped and barked playfully.  Me being my four year old self,  pretended to be a dog and crawled into Max’s seemingly large cage.  I would soon find this to be a mistake.  The old man with wispy white hair locked me in the cage.  Playfully, of course.  I howled and barked, like all dogs do.  Eventually, after Mom and Grammy’s ominous exchange had exceeded its normal length, it was time to go.  I was let out of the cage and transformed back into my human figure, or so I thought.  We walked to the front door; only Grandpops and I were showing any sign of emotion.  I wasn’t happy that we had to leave and he wasn’t all that ecstatic either -- there was never a dull moment when we were together.  I never did want to leave.

                                                                                                                         

Later that week Mom rushed out of the door, forgetting about her glasses and purse, and slammed the door so she could nonverbally tell us that something was wrong.  I was confused, consequently.  I went to ask Dad what was wrong.  He would know, right?  As I reluctantly walked into his room, I noticed that he was sitting on his bed; his body positioned toward the wall with his hands covering his face.  This had been the first time I’d seen Dad cry, tears seeping through his fingers.  Unexpectedly, he jolted his body so that he would face me, trying to compose himself.  I saw that he had been crying through his firetruck red face.  I too, began to weep.  The water works had begun.  However I did not know what for.  When we had both finally come to our senses, he held my hand.  The words came out of his mouth like a sputtering engine on an old car.  He told me through his blubbering that Grandpops was gone.  Gone. Gone. The kind of gone that isn’t away on a fishing trip.  The kind of gone that doesn’t come back.  I thought this impossible.  There was no way.  I had just seen him, vibrant as ever.  I couldn’t cry.  Not because I was trying not to, but because I couldn’t.   I knew he was in a better place, but I still couldn’t accept that.  I needed him here.  With me.  He was my Grandpops.  
     

After my conversation with Dad, I sat in my room for what seemed like forever, thinking about all of the times I shared with Grandpops.  My most recent memory flushed into my brain as if it pushed everything else out of the way.  I kept replaying it in my mind,  playing dog and getting locked in the cage - playfully of course.  I wondered if there was anything else I could’ve done.  Was there something I should’ve said?   This thought was always a weight on my shoulders I could not relieve.  However, whenever I think about it, it also brings me joy.  This is why I believe everyone should have their dog cage moment.  This I believe.


The author's comments:

This is a personal experience of mine about the last moment I sharded with my Grandpa


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