As I held my great grandfather’s hand, I know this will be the last. I smoothed over every wrinkle on his fragile palm, trying my hardest not to let my tears fall to the ground. My grandfather had been like this for nearly 2 weeks. At 94 years old, he was sent to hospice care to relieve him of his suffering in the comfort of his family. I had been dreading this moment my entire life. The realization of death is the hardest concept to grasp, yet the most beautiful to embrace. It took all of my might not to be angry at the situation, the world, and even God, for taking away a man I loved so much. My entire family felt hopeless.

Death is something that can not be immediately dealt with. It is a topic that must be conquered through realization, acceptance, and faith. Faith in the unknown, faith in one's self, and faith in the universe. I believe there is life after death, and in this life, there is something to cherish and belong to. I believe this place to be Heaven. This is where I know my grandfather will be. Safe, secure, loved, and remembered. Forever, this would be his home. However, in order to come to this state of mind, my family and I needed to come to peace with my grandfather’s death. It was not very easy. From the pictures he would take with me, dressed up in his bright, cheerful santa costume on Christmas, to the flowers we would pick for my grandmother. Oh, the sweet natural perfume from the most beautiful flowers that would eventually pass away as well. I must accept that everything dies, but what would come after? The man I loved and cherished so much would spend eternity in darkness or behind the most glorious gates in the universe. This unknown drove fear into me, deep down inside. I needed to know, experience, and grasp my grandfather’s faith, and to my luck, he came to me.

After my grandfather’s death, my family was required to clean out his house in preparation for sale. While rummaging through his items, I stumbled along a piece of paper, tucked neatly underneath a lamp, with a crisp edge poking out. This strange item appealed to me in such a way, I felt as though it was calling to me. To describe the feeling, it was surreal. It was almost as if I could hear it whispering, “Micah….Micah….Micah”. There was a slight feeling of responsibility to open it. And to this day, it brings tears to my eyes, the words that note held. “It’s beautiful here”, the little note read. Tears filled my eyes because I was so sure what it meant and who wrote it. It was my grandfathers. I believe the note was for me. Whether to ease my worries or bring my grief to an end, it was my note. I folded the piece of paper and slid it into my back pocket. I have never mentioned or shared that note with anyone after that night. It was my note. A special note just for me. One that was so unexplainable, but I managed to find words to express it. Words that I project right now. I believe in death. I believe in life after death. But most importantly, I believe a force unknown to man, provides an eternal happiness, man will never be able to experience during their lifetime.