Tumbling out of bed with extremely red puffy eyes, an intense migraine, and the most fragile voice I’d ever had, a prolonged question dawned: “Why me?”

As a child I was not taught how to deal with death. I never worried myself with wondering what’s the worst that could happen. Then out of nowhere I was hit with an overwhelming circumstance that involved someone whom I idolized and loved dearly. It smacked me in the face like a ton of bricks and that devil-like word consumed my every thought. Cancer. Cancer. Cancer. By virtue of it’s meaning and the way my family was reacting I knew the word could not be associated with anything positive, but I never considered that this simple world would flip my world upside down and inside out with no means of controlling the inevitable outcome.

My grandmother was the most influential woman I have ever known. She was kind, honest, giving, and was always willing to spend time with my sister and I. She’d cared for us, even if she always stole our Cheetos. She gave us “junk boxes” full of all kinds of interesting trinkets for Christmas, and delivered many hugs and kisses which we never ever complained about. Her obsession with gardening was passed to my mother and …show more content…
That night my pillows turned into a moistened surface and my bed became a residence to grief. Her death unknowingly changed me. Although this event initially took the life out of me, her passing brought me back to life; it almost seemed to be a wake-up call. I learned life was way too short and can end in an instant. I need to succeed and I need to become a success; not only for me but for my grandmother. I wear her ashes in jewelry around my neck every day as a daily reminder that she is with me and never would want me to fall into another pit of depression, wasting my life away. She lived her life to the fullest and I'll make sure to live my life proving I can do just