You should have been like the characters in The Notebook.
You should have passed lovingly in each others arms. But you didn't.
There is a reason god has taken him and left me you.
I know you're 79 but you're mine.
M I N E.
Not cancers, not deaths, but mine.
It's beautiful how he appears in your dreams yet torturous how he preys on your memory, drawing you closer to him until you wake up.
But it's no longer beautiful when you decide that it's your time.
No. It's not your time because you are mine. You still have time, god gave you this time, you have no right to stop it.
And I don't know what to say to change your mind. No, words might not work but actions may.
And so we ask the doctors to make you have fluids. But it is as if they are in cahoots with him, sabotaging your life for these dreams of yours. They say, " we cannot force her."
And while I cry and your four daughters cry you dream of him and he erases our tears as if they never appeared.
I wonder if you thought about me, maybe I want you here more than he wants you there.
Selfish I know.
But Grandma, please don't go.