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I've often heard people say, "This is the worst day of my life." I used to say that too, until I actually had the worst day. Actually I will say days. My grandma was the cool one. The one who took us shopping, or could do our hair, because she was a beautician. My sister and I could just hang out and be ourselves. She was a smoker, but I didn't think much about until later on in my life.
I was young at the time she was diagnosed with breast cancer. I really didn't get why her hair was falling out or why she was weak more often. To me she was just plain brave. She was even cooler, because she got to wear a wig. She recovered after chemotherapy. I thought every thing would return to normal, but that was a mistake. About two years later she was diagnosed with lung cancer. I was still pretty young, but I understood what cancer was and that she was sick. Her best friend was rich, so my grandma had the privilege to travel a little before the worst of the cancer set in. We went to Florida for a week to spend time with her. One of her last requests was to be able to walk along the beach with her granddaughters and collect shells. If I had realized at the time she was dying, I would have spent more time with her.
When I started to realize she was dying it was the beginning of 2011. She didn't eat much except yogurt and even then she got sick. We started driving 3 hours every weekend to see her. I was so scared that I would lose my "cool" grandma. All the sudden she wasn't the strong one that I needed, she needed my help. So I talked to her and held her hand. Eventually she was hospitalized. That's when my life turned upside down. I started having fits when I slept and my dad would come in my room and see me crying. I would start sobbing on and on about how skinny she was and I didn't want to lose her. I would have nervous breakdowns.
One Wednesday while I was in class I was told I was leaving early. It turns out my grandma wasn't going to make it through the week. I cried on the way up to the hospital thinking I wasn't going to see her alive, that we wouldn't make it. We got to the hospital and ran down the hallway. There she was. She couldn't move or even talk. She hadn't eaten anything besides cut ice. I sat in that hospital room for hours on end, but I didn't care. I wanted to stay the night at the hospital, but being the youngest I was forced to go back to a relatives home. Before I left for the night I leaned over to my grandma and whispered, "I love you Grandma." She hadn't said a thing in days, so I didn't expect her to respond. In a faint whisper she replied, "I love you." Those words will stay with me forever. I stayed the night the next night and later the next night after that she passed away with her family holding her hands.
Losing my grandma was a hard blow after losing my great grandma and grandpa in the few years before that. Losing her helped me realize that you can lose things you love so quickly. I realized I needed to be grateful for what I have now. It brought a part of our family together that I would have never guessed would get along. As long as I live I will remember some of her last words. I love you too Grandma.
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