I hear the voice of little lady the one who I was growing taller than, she had the prettiest eyes and they were filled with life, always wanting to sit outside or be around her little family.  The sound of her voice just continues to play in my head over and over, she’s saying something but I can’t understand what it is, it sounds muffled. I’m sure she’s saying she loves me like the many times she said before, but I'm still unsure, hearing her voice quickly brings back when she would say my name a little bit too long and hold out the last letter saying Desiiiii. 

For me, it’s this better time, the time where all my family smiled, I guess you could say we were happy, I smell the food cooking papas, and beans, my cousins laughing a little too loud, the TV on but no one watching. These happy times is a time that we can only reflect on because it no longer exists. Back then, we were all happy, we were all together there were no tears, no frowns, none of that; life was simple and it felt good. 

As I relive this moment, it’s joy quickly washes away and the reality floods my mind, for the millionth time. I hear the words I never thought I'd hear, and before I could even process what was about to happen, the words, Why? she was a fighter, she had nine lives Why her, why is god taking her from me knowing im not ready, she still hasn't seen me graduate or accomplish my goals?

I can still picture myself in the cold room, the waiting room. I can still see my family sitting beside me, my aunt wailing in pain and disbelief, my cousins who are always laughing, have the brightest personalities and are strong, soon burst into tears. I was there, but I wasn’t; my mind was somewhere else. I stood there silently: no tears, no words, I stood in despair, disbelief, and overall I was broken. 

My Grandma, the rock to this family, who had helped raise all of us and had survived dialysis, a liver transplant, diabetes, and high blood pressure, close to gone. Sitting in the cold waiting room, hearing the words “She won't make it through the night” made the walls come down,  I wasn't sure where I stood or where my family stood. I told my cousin it was going to be okay, but I wasn't sure if it was going to be, in fact, I knew it wasn't going to be. 

 Knowing that my grandma won't be calling me anymore, she will no longer tell me to post on her facebook. Not going to her house has hurt me the most and her showing me her nails, she would always get upset at my mom and aunts when they’d say “mom you need to cut them nails lady.” they were her real ones she’d go get them done every month. The pain I felt in that time and place is unexplainable having that feeling that everything about her will be a memory now, it sent this feeling to my chest, my heart was broken into millions of pieces shooting back up my throat and it felt unreal, but I felt this need to control it and try to be the strong one for my family. 

The night went slowly.  Chills ran through my body knowing she wasn't going to make it. I wondered how we were going to afford a funeral and a rosary knowing my family didn't have the funds, though she deserved a beautiful service. 

At first, the waiting room was full of my grandma's sisters, nieces, and nephews all who I've only seen once or twice in my life, then as time went on they came and went. My immediate family stayed with my grandma until she was ready. They told us she wasn’t going to make it through the night but my grandma fought and it seemed as if she waited for my cousin who was coming from Ell Paso. 

She fought until 5:05 am. When I learned she had passed away, I ran out of the room because I couldn't bear seeing her; however, I felt if I didn't see her after I would've had regrets on not saying goodbye, so I went and saw her, they said she looked like she was sleeping but she didn’t, when I would stay with her she would sleep with her mouth open a little so she didn’t, me standing bedside I was just waiting for her to open her eyes and I'd say grandma you always playing too much and then we’d laugh, she was always joking around, every time I would go to her house I'd always go home stuffed, she would make me more food then I'd ask for and then when I was done eating she’d make fun of me and say something like miraa and tell everyone who called how much food I ate. At that moment I realized she was really gone , I lost myself, I didn't want no one to touch her that wasn't family, seeing these people who I didn't know take my grandma hurt me, and the feeling was just unexplainable, it’s something I won’t ever forget.

It’s easy for people to say she’s in a better place, she’s not suffering or just try and be comforting, but for me I was close to my grandma, it eventually gets to a point were those words don't mean nothing and your just like yeah yeah, for me tears mean nothing at this point I try not to shed them, I just think they're not gonna make my grandma come back to us, she’s gone, she would always tell me don’t cry des your gonna get sick, so I continue to go by that, losing someone who raised you and was a part of you leaves an empty void in your heart.

 Death is something you won’t ever understand until it happens to someone who was close to you. Although it’s something that you're surrounded by daily, you often pass by a funeral home and think nothing of it; you may see a funeral procession line and not blink an eye. Death is cruel; there’s nothing beautiful about it no matter what you believe happens in the afterlife. I wish at times everyone could have a taste of the pain of losing someone who they love the most so they can cherish their loved ones before it’s too late.