I was raised in family where boys and men were thought not to cry or show emotions. My grandma was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and was given 2 months to live, which thanks to amazing crazy surgeon who was the only one willing to do the operation which was highly risky, performed with success. Cancer was removed and I took care of my grandma, because my parents were working hard and I decided to pause my university to take care of her. I never told that to my university friends, instead I told them that I got sick and needed some free time.
I took care of my grandma for almost a year, what a wonderful year that was, despite her sickness. I did everything, cooking, cleaning, dressing her, changing diapers, walking with her around room, but the sickness returned shortly after the surgery, cancer spread all over her body. After a while she couldn’t even be spoon fed by me and the ambulance took her to the hospital where entire family visited her daily.
She was so yellow, omg, and a shadow of a former self. Due to great pain, the doctors put her into sleep induced with morphium.
One day, something was different, my dog was nervous, and I went to see her as usual, it was my daily routine. That day, it was Sunday, and she was moved to the intensive care unit. I spent hours with her that day, not knowing that it would be our last day. I was talking with her how she provided me with amazing life, reading me stories, teaching me how to ride a bike, trying to teach me to be a good and moral person, teaching me to follow my own way, to be creative, and many other things. She was more to me than my mother and father, something I never admitted to anyone.
That day, after hours of talking to her in a morphium sleep, doctors told me she is in coma and cannot feel or hear anything, I told her I love her, cuddled her hair and held her hand gently. I told her I need to go home, as it’s been hours, and that I’ll see her again tomorrow.
At that very moment, she shed a tear, tear coming from her closed eye, she in a coma state, my words somehow reached her and made her cry, as if she knew what would happen the very next day. Next day, she died, 30 minutes before I came to visit her and was awkwardly greeted by a nurse and a white sheet over her bed and body.
I promised her that I will always remember her and light a candle for her, something I do every day, and when I’m alone, I cry, because there are no words to describe how nice and great she was and what a loss it was. There is one good person less in this world, which made this world a better and nicer place for all she touched with her kindness.
Thanks for reading my confession, it is not much as death occurs daily and is natural, even after 4 years had passed, I still light a small candle in her memory and cry for her, when I’m alone and nobody is watching me.