www.whyville.net Feb 27, 2011 Weekly Issue

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Losing My Best Friend

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It was 20 days before my birthday. Exactly 20 days, I always keep count when the time comes near. I got a phone call, one that I wish I would have never received. It was my grandma calling, with some very bad news. She told me that you were gone, that you had a stroke and were taken to the hospital. They put you on life support, but they were too late; there was nothing they could do now to save you. As I was on the phone with my grandma, I held back the tears. After pushing the end button on my phone, I burst into tears. I couldn't stop the tears, they just kept coming. I felt hopeless, I felt like now I didn't mean anything, now that you are gone. I closed my eyes and clasped my hands together, and prayed that you'd come back to see me. I asked God to let me see you again, for I never even got to say goodbye.

Three days after your death, my family and I attended your funeral. One by one, our family members walked up to the podium to talk about you, share all the silly things you've done and the memories they've had with you. Great Grandpa didn't attend, for he didn't have the heart to see your body lying there, motionless. My mother turned to me and asked if I'd like to speak, since all the adults were done. I nodded and walked to the podium. I looked down at your face, it looked so peaceful and serene. I looked over the pews and cleared my throat; it was time to share my memories. I told them everything; I drew many tears to their eyes. I told them how we used to color together when I was younger, and how you always used to to take me winter clothes shopping every year. I told them how whenever I needed a hug, you were always right there. How you were my best friend, and how I told you everything that I knew my friends at school would never understand. I explained to them how you were so accepting, and so understanding, how I know you'd never judge me for the things I've done.

I was 11 when you passed away, almost 12. Now, I'm almost 16 and I still reflect on the days we spent together. I feel stronger, but also weaker without you. I used to feel like I had no one to talk to. Sure, I had friends before you died, but none of them understood me like you did. Now, being older and more mature, I feel like I've grown as a person from everything we did together. I remember the note I put in your casket before we drove away; I wrote all of our memories in it. I put some pictures I found in my room in the envelope as well. I thought that maybe when you were in heaven, you'd come back down to Earth and read what I had wrote.

Great Grandma, I am not afraid to say that you were my best friend. I'm not afraid to tell people that I told you everything, and I am also not ashamed that I had fun with you. I'll always remember every memory, every secret I told you not to share. Every hug you gave me when I thought my world was crumbling, and every piece of advice that kept me smiling.

I miss you, and I love you.

R.I.P Great Grandma Betty, May 4th, 2007.


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