October 15, 2013 was a standard Tuesday for most individuals, but it was a special day for me. That Tuesday was my tenth birthday, a timestamp for many as it’s the day your age hits double digits. On what started as a rather mundane birthday, the mood acutely shifted when I discovered the news. I was struck with an experience I had never exactly encountered before, and the day transitioned into what would become the worst birthday of my life thus far.

When my mother told me that my grandma had been hospitalized, I hardly flinched. I was playing PC games at the moment, and when she delivered the news, my mind didn’t fully process it. Obviously, I was slightly taken aback, but at the end of the day, I was still in a relatively happy mood. See, at the time, death was foreign to me. An unknown state of life that was only present in movies. To a nine year old who has lived a sheltered life, hospitalization meant absolutely nothing. I can’t exactly recall if the thought of my grandmother dying popped into my head, but I do know I was virtually worry-free. All the years leading up this, life’s grim, yet inevitable, reality wasn’t truly a reality for me.

I hated going to class on my birthday, I always advocated that everyone should get a free pass on their special day, but as per usual, I sucked it up and hopped on the bus. It was an average day, although I felt a little special as grade school typically celebrates kids birthdays like World War II just ended. For me though, the fun usually begins when I come home after school. The go-to plan for a birthday night starts with a family trip to a local restaurant, watching a movie when we get home, and finally opening gifts. But this particular birthday, my tenth, we didn’t go to town for dinner. It was strange, but I wasn’t overly alarmed. The mood that night shifted, and when I discovered the news that my grandma had passed away a few hours ago, I broke into tears. It’s not like I was completely blind; deep down, I already knew. It’s just difficult to comprehend something so peculiar to someone who’s never encountered death before. I watched my father cry that night, a man I had never witnessed being broken before. That day something happened that was so odd to me at the time, and I’ve remembered it ever since.

Acceptance started with the funeral. It was relatively small with less than ten attendees plus the pastor. It was mostly family members and a couple of close friends. We were outdoors, and I remember it being quite chilly that morning. I didn’t cry that day, although there were a few people that did. After the funeral, the family went out to lunch. Moving on afterwards was tough, but it had to be done. Years later, I realize that death is a reality, and acceptance is key. Keeping your head up during times like these is essential to your mental health. No matter what happens, the world doesn’t stop moving and if you get caught in the past, life will go straight over your head. Acceptance may sound difficult, and it is quite often, but it’s necessary.

Knowing my grandmother was hospitalized, I was still blinded by ignorance. But her passing tore down that wall of ignorance and taught me a moral lesson. Acceptance is key. My tenth birthday was one of the worst days of my life, but my grandma’s passing taught me that death is a reality. It happens everyday, and it’s nearly impossible to ignore. But when this inevitable fate comes to someone near and dear to your heart, you have to move on, no matter what.