Tara3

    School had just let out for the summer after my sixth grade year. My life was normal, and I had no clue that it would soon change. One Monday night, after I had gone to bed, the phone rang. A couple seconds later, Mama woke me up. She said we had to go to my grandmother�s house because something had happened to my Papa, my only grandfather. We shared a special bond, and I loved him very much. Although this news alarmed me, I was still somewhat asleep. I did not yet comprehend the seriousness of the situation. I think that was the fastest I�d ever gotten dressed, and we were at their house in only a few minutes.
     The paramedics had already taken Papa to the hospital, and some of my relatives had gone with him. Mama left, too, and I was alone with my cousin Tracey. We were all alone in my Nana�s house, and I still didn�t know what happened. Tracey did not tell me much; she may have been trying to protect me from the truth or she may not have known herself. I remember going to sleep in a recliner, feeling lost and hopeless.
     When I awoke in the morning, Mama was still gone. Tracey�s mother, my aunt Desiree�, came to take us to the hospital. She told us Papa had had something like a stroke. Tracey cried terribly, so I knew something was very wrong. All I could do was sit there. I recalled a book I had read about a girl�s grandmother having a stroke. The girl got her grandmother to answer her by blinking her eyes, one for yes and two for no. I was thinking I could do the same with Papa.
As soon as I walked into his room in ICU, I knew this wasn�t possible because so many machines were crammed into such a tiny space. Papa had not had a stroke, the doctors said, but a rupture of the brain stem. I said my good-byes and went to the waiting room with my family. An old, wrinkled man walked in a few minutes later. He had on a red flannel shirt and overalls and kept saying funny things. I looked around to see if it was okay to laugh. Later, someone in my family said he may have been God�s way of comforting us. He was no comfort to me. I felt guilty for laughing, when in a room nearby, my grandfather was dying. Soon, my uncle opened the door. �It�s all over,� he said.
     It was all over, Papa�s life and my life as I knew it. Walking to the car, it was so cold. Though it was June, the chilled air and light rain swallowed me into a cold emptiness I�d never felt before. I felt angry coming home. �Why had God let this happen?� I thought to myself.
My concept of time after that point went away. There was the funeral where I cried no tears. I had run out earlier alone in my room. It was as if my body could not keep up with my need for the tears. I remember people, so many people. I wanted them to leave so badly. When they finally did, I wanted them back. It was time to achieve a new �normalcy,� which I was not yet ready for.
     It did eventually happen, but I have never been the same. That was the first time I lost a loved one. I realize how much we take for granted and how precious life really is. It made me question my faith, which I have struggled with since. My family is not the same anymore. We don�t get together because one is always missing. I cherish the people I still have left. Time does heal, but I still feel the exact same way I did three years ago.
     I want my Papa back.