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"Good-bye to the one I love"
The way never to lose someone is never to forget that they love you, and will always be there. Have you ever left for school in the morning without saying good-bye to the people you love? I bet you have. Many people say that they don't take people for granted, but at some point in life, I'm positive we all do. Sometimes people don't realize what they are doing, until it's too late. We have to learn from our experiences, and use the knowledge we gain in order to make sure that we don't make the same mistakes. I learned my lesson in August of 1.
I was having the best summer of my life. My grandfather and I had just got back from a week in Main. Every morning before dawn, we took long walks along the water's edge. We would talk about life in general, while we watched the sunrise. Since my father had left my mom and me before I was born, I looked up to my grandfather as my dad. He and I had a special relationship, he wasn't like a grandfather; he was the friend that longed for. He was the little voice inside my head that told me what to do and what not to do. On special occasions, my grandfather and I would walk down to Mc. Donald's and order a chocolate shake and French fries; it was something that only the two of did. We would talk about everything. That was the best thing about him. No matter what was going on in his life, he always had time for you. If he had a bad day, he would still listen to you because that was his way of doing things. If it was worth saying, then it was worth listening to.
My grandfather was a very active man. Every day he would run from our house up to the hospital and back. Then two or three times a week he would walk over to Ron Lewis' Martial Arts School for Ty-Quan-Do lessons. Then he would come home and we would go for a walk at night. But on a cold night in August no one knew what was going to happen, just a few hours after my grandfather walked out of the house.
It was August 5, and my friend Jennifer was spending the night. We had planned on eating popcorn and watching movies. We were acting like every normal twelve-year-old girl, talking about everything, having fun, and doing whatever. My grandfather and I had gotten into a big fight that morning about something stupid. Just like any teenager gets into with their parents. He came into my room and said that he was going to class and that he would be back later, and that we would talk. I was furious with him, so I said, "Whatever" he left the room with a small "Good-bye."
The phone rang a lot that night, but it was normal for our house, so I didn't pay much attention to it. Jennifer wanted some eat, so I went looking for my grandmother to ask her if she wanted anything. I looked everywhere for her. My mom soon told me that she had "gone out" to meet a few people and that she would be back later. I didn't think much it, so I went back with Jen. While she and I were watching a movie my mother came in and said that she had to "go out" for a moment and that Jennifer's mom would over to watch us. It was fine with me just as long as I didn't have to go anywhere; I was having too much fun. So Jenn and I went back to watching the movie. She didn't mind having her mother here with us.
It was around nine at night, Jen's mom had just put my baby brother to bed, when the phone rang again. This time however it was different. When Jen's mom got off, she told me to go get my brother out of bed, we were going for a drive. We all piled into the little red mini van and were off. In the back seat, Jen and I were laughing that we had to go somewhere in our pajamas. The trip was short, maybe a little too short, for we stopped in the Emergency parking lot of the Chenango Memorial Hospital.
When we got out of the van, Jen and I looked at each other, stunned and confused. My mind was racing around, like it was the Daytona 500. Was someone hurt or did Jen's mom work here? I became more confused when I saw my mother crying on the bench. Her face was pale; there was no expression on her face. It was as if she was dead. I gave her a hug, but she didn't do anything but cry harder, so I went inside with Jen. When we got in, I saw my brother's godparents, sitting in a corner crying. They came up to me, looked me straight in the eyes. Right then I knew that something was terribly wrong. They told me that there had been an accident, that my grandfather was dead. He had had a massive heart attack during his practice at class, and that there was nothing that could be done. I didn't want to believe this, but who would? Who would want to know that your grandfather, who you just had a fight with, was dead. That the last word you spoke to him was "Whatever"? I ran down the hallway, my heart beating faster and faster. It was if I was running for my life. I looked in room after room until I found him. I open the door, and he was lying there on a cold metal table. A blue cloth was draped over him, stained with blood. All the monitors were blank, for he was gone. I reached for his hand. The ones that had held me tight when I was sick. The hand that had dried my tears when I was sad. The ones that picked me when I was glad. I took the blue sheet down, so I could see his face. The horror that struck threw my body was taking over my mind. His face was cold, pale, and stiff. His smile was gone, along with the life he had in him. It was then that it all hit me. He really was gone, never to return.
The next few weeks were all a blur. Signing for packages that we coming in by the dozens. Comforting my emotionally wrecked grandmother, and trying to cope myself. I never realized just how much one simple word could mean. How your world could come crashing down in an instant. How a single phone call can be the end of your world. I felt like it was my fault that he had died. It was hard looking at my grandmother and seeing her cry none stop day and night. I told myself that it was my fault that she was in pain. That he might still have been alive if I had just said one word, if I could have only said good-bye. Today I realize that I never knew how much he meant to me. How each and every moment I spent with him was something special. I know most people can't relate to this, because they have never lost someone so close and so dear. But I know, that you don't know what you have until you lose it, and I lost mine.
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