Grandma’s house used to always be full of happiness and laughter. Now, since Cancer has arrived Grandma’s house is silent and depressing. Her life is going to end soon. I used to smell the bacon and eggs she would always have prepared for me for breakfast. Now, all I smell is fear and anger because I know what is going to happen next. I used to hear early morning soap operas and the sizzling of the bacon cooking; now all I hear is crying and sobbing. I used to taste the caked on butter on my toast and ribbon candies, now all I taste is her kisses because I know very soon, I won’t be able to taste them anymore... I touch her soft beautiful face as I wipe away her tears while trying to hold in mine to prove to her I’m strong and that dying is a new beginning. As I wipe away the tears as they roll down my cheek I try explaining, “The afterlife isn’t all that bad.” She would just shrug her shoulders and the fake smile she used when upset. I usually see the ribbon candies during Christmas time, but not this Christmas. All I see are tissues and the snowflakes falling slowly, as I daze imagining about what life would be like without her.

When Grandma and Cancer first met I was only six. At that age, it’s a confusing idea to understand, but Grandma would always tell me not to worry because she was going to “kick Cancers butt”. I believed her of course. Just when I thought she was better for good, there was a knock at the door. It was Cancer. Cancer was a mean, ruthless man. He stood 6’5 with all black eyes and pale milk colored skin. He always wore a black hooded sweat shirt when he’d come to visit I could tell he was an evil man just by the way he walked; he did this slithering glide as he approached Grandma. “No, please don’t, just stay away I never did anything to anyone in my life!” she sobbed to herself, almost fainting as she lost her breath.

It’s your time to go; nothing is going to change my mind.” Cancer argued. But, I know Grandma wasn’t going to give up the fight, because she never has. She would always reassure me by saying that she wasn’t going anywhere because she always beat Cancer and that this was just routine. It was time for chemo again. Chemo was Cancers biggest fear. We waited weeks for the results, and finally one day Grandma called us all over to her house. “Chemo didn’t work this time.” Grandma decided to not go through any more pain and to let God determine her fate.

“You can’t leave me! Nothing will ever be the same!” I shrieked while trying to catch my breath. “Nothing will ever be the same.” I said crying more than ever before.

Grandma said softly, “A wise man that is going through the same situation as me once said, ‘You can’t help the cards you are dealt, just how you play the hand.” This is true I thought, but it doesn’t make this terrible situation any easier.

A few months have passed and things are escalating. The Grandma I know was always a little plump and always full of energy. The Grandma I seen lying in the bed was completely opposite. Her thighs where no bigger than her wrists and her tumors were the size of golf balls covering her body. Grandma can’t walk anymore. Grandma can’t talk anymore; Grandma can’t even eat Jell-O without choking on it because her energy level was so low. Grandma can’t even open her eyes anymore… All she can do is cry while the people she loves surrounds her for her very last moments. Now we know it’s her time to leave us and enter the afterlife.

The next day Mom picked me up from school early. I knew something had happened, “Why’d you pick me up early?” I asked. But truthfully I knew but didn’t want to think about it.

She replied with “We will talk when we get home okay?” I felt my heart drop and the lump in my throat grow bigger and bigger by the second. The car ride was full of anxiety and doubts. As we reached our house I started begging like it was for my life for her to tell me why she had picked me up early. She said hesitantly “She’s gone baby girl.” All I could do at that moment was drop to my knees and cry so hard I couldn’t even breathe. I had just lost my best friend.

“Why’d she have to go?” I said while mopping to myself. Nobody knew how much losing her affected me. That’s when the doubt, dark makeup and depression started. Of course that wasn’t Grandma’s fault, but her death just damaged me for eternity. I wondered why God has taken her from me. I was only 12, so pure, innocent and confused.

Ever since the loss of Grandma, her house was full of strangers and new love. The holidays will never be the same without her short, curled, black hair, or her beautiful warming smile. Getting too close to someone now is a scary thought for me because the death of someone I love is too much for me to handle. I’m too broken.

Now, as the years pass, and my views of life are changing, I understand why Cancer took her life. Grandma is too good to be on this earth with the rest of us, God wanted her for himself. Every time I think about never being able to see her again, it breaks my heart. Thinking about Grandmas death, I think of how much happier she is in heaven instead of this stereotypical world. I’m improving my life piece by piece at least so I can know that she’s proud of the person I’m becoming. The death of Grandma taught me to appreciate the people that love me in my life, and ignore the ones who don’t because it’s their loss. Grandma’s spirit is with me every day, I know this because I’m still here, to achieve what I want to in life.