Saying goodbye

We've been in this hospital waiting room for days, the whole family is here; from immediate family to those whom I've just met. A scared nine-year-old sits with her family, confused, and feeling emotions she's never felt before.
It's like watching a movie but, it's real. Mom runs out of the room she is in, Aunt Chelle hugs her as mommy weeps her face covered in her hands. I look around everybody has a sad face on it's like they all put masks on. Mom slowly walks over, she bends down and explains in the simplest way she could, asking me if I wanted to say goodbye. Of course, I had to see her face one last time. Mom tells me that she doesn't look like she usually does, she's really skinny, and her hands and feet are very swollen. As I walk down to the room, it seems like a never-ending road to nowhere. Walking down that hallway I see many people I get hugs, kisses on the head, hands touching me on the shoulder, in giving me a feeling of assurance. After a few more hugs, we enter the dim room, lit with the light of heaven shining down on her. There she lies, my best friend, my second mother, my Grandma Tanny.

I feel this new feeling I later learned is grief. Mom says do you want to say anything to her? She smiled weakly at me I whisper and nod yes. I whisper to her that I love her and she'll have a wonderful time in heaven, then I say I love you grandma goodbye. I think back to this day a lot wishing I could've run up to her and hug her and begged her not to go I still needed her in my life but, it was her time to go.

It's been four years now and I think of her every day. I've accomplished much in those four years. Now I stand here before you today reading my story of saying goodbye thinking of her smiling down on us right now from heaven. I know and understand that she's remembered in the littlest ways and that she's in a place where she can be young and cancer-free. I know and understand now that you never really say goodbye, she'll always be with us.