I've never felt this much grief in my life. Tears start to form but I try to push them back down. Grandma is dying, I cannot believe this. This can't be right. Grandma has always been healthy! I want to scream! I guess the truth really does hurt, laughing bitterly to myself. I ask the doctor as calmly as possible, "Are you sure this is correct? There must be some kind of mistake." This doctor must have announced this kind of news to many people—like me, who care deeply for their loved ones—for he quietly says, "I'd love to say I'm wrong, but no mistakes have been made. I am truly sorry." Within a few minutes, my whole life has fallen apart and suddenly I can't stop the tears from falling. Soon I'm outright sobbing. That night, I dream of Grandma.
My grandmother and I were more than best friends, she was like my sister. Grandma was the one who taught me everything including crocheting. Grandma is extremely talented at crochet, and she is very well known. Many people buy her patterns or finished products. I am also decently talented at crochet but I'll never be as good as her. She knew everything about crocheting and plenty of interesting facts about crochet. She knew that the first crochet pattern was printed in 1824, that President James Buchanan liked to crochet and much more. She also knew that crochet is French for "little hook."We were crocheting, laughing, and chatting about random topics. We laughed and talked about everything.
