Death is a scary thing. It makes you wonder what happens after this life. Death makes you wonder if you’re going to Heaven or Hell, depending on the life you’ve lived. People die every day and it always hurts. The closer you are to a person, the harder it hits you. Sometimes, I dream about what my grandfather is doing in Heaven. I wonder if he’s smiling down at me for being a great grandson and person. Sometimes, I wonder if he looks at me in anger due to all of the mistakes that I have made over the years. I miss my grandfather and I wish he could have lived to see the young man that I am becoming.
The year was 2008 and my birthday (October 19th) was spectacular. My dad picked me up from school and said that the family was taking me out to eat and then we would go to White Marsh Mall. I was a ball of energy. Joy radiated from my smile. My smile was so bright that I could have been mistaken as the sun. When we got home, my mother was there with my little sister, Victoria. After we picked them up, we drove to White Marsh to meet my godparents (Uncle James and Aunt Dedra) and my godsister (Jasmine). We ate at Red Lobster first and then we went to the mall. I received about $80 that day and with that, I bought some brand new video games for my GameCube: Madden NFL 2008 and something else, I can’t recall. I was so happy to brag to my friends at school the next day because I bought the latest Madden game. My family watched we walk around the mall with joy because I was getting to be a “big man”. I walked around with my chest out saying, “I’m a big man! Hey, you look out, big man coming through!”. I got tired eventually and my parents said it was time to go home. We left the mall around 8:00 pm and we got home around 8:20 pm. I ran upstairs, did my homework, said my prayers, and then I went to sleep in my bunk bed. I was smiling as I slept, but little did I know that my smile would fade to a depressing crescent for the next few months. My little mountain of joy would become a valley of the shadow of death.
At school the next day, I bragged about my new video game and all the money I received. As the day went on, I continued to smile and frolic like a baby deer in the meadow. During recess, we played football and since my skills had surpassed all others, I was the first person picked on a team. I was having a great game. I caught about 3 touchdowns and I had 2 interceptions. Other students were cheering for me. Some would even say that I was playing on the level as some of the best 8th graders. Those compliments really made my day. After recess, we went back to class and just did some fun work. I was helping some of the other students with the work. I was looked at as the leader because I was just a really nice and smart guy, who eventually became a great athlete as well. Those were the requirements to be cool at my school.
School let out at 3 p.m. Aftercare started at 3:30 p.m, so I made my way to the basement. I talked to my friends, did my homework, and got ready to go outside at 4 p.m.. What did we play outside? Football! I was having another great game, but this time, the 8th graders joined us. I was having another great game until my father picked me up. He signed me out and then I got in the front seat and chatted about my day. However, Dad seemed really off. I asked what was wrong and he said, “I have some bad news for you.” I sat up in my seat and said, “What happened?”.
“Grandaddy died today. His diabetes got to him.”
“That’s impossible. How could this have happened?”
“My son, you must understand that death is part of life. Granddaddy is in Heaven now. He doesn’t have to suffer anymore. Isn’t that what you would rather have?”.
I started choking up. I didn’t know what I wanted. I just wanted my grandfather back, but I knew he was in a better place. I answered Dad’s question with a broken “Ye…yes.” Once I realized this, I felt the wave of tears come into my eyes. I just could not stop crying. My eyes were feeling like water balloons that were heavy with pain. Dad tried to comfort me before we got in the house. I met my mother at the door with tears because she just lost her father, my grandfather. She was crying too, but she told me that it was okay. I didn’t want it to be okay. I wanted my Grandaddy back. I never felt such pain in my life at the time. I began to question why death happened. I asked God why he took my Grandaddy. I was no longer on top of the world, but in a valley where Death lurked at every corner, taunting because he took my grandfather from me. I went downstairs and looked in the mirror to see how my eyes looked. They were as red as beets. I said to myself, “One moment, you can be on top, the next minute, you can be suffering from great loss.” I hit a low point and I didn’t know if I would ever rise up from it.
My mother drove to Virginia the next day to be with her side of the family. She stayed at my grandma’s house to comfort her. My father, Victoria, and I followed suit they day after she left. I was watching Iron Man before we left to feel better, but I didn’t feel better. I just went to sleep. Dad woke me up and said, “It’s time.” We got in the car and drove to Portsmouth, Virginia, where my grandma lives and went to stay with her. Grandma was hurting. She was crying and screaming. She felt defeated. All of us felt defeated because Grandaddy was a great man. He was a former pastor, retired soldier, and retired teacher, but his stroke and diabetes made him give up pastoring and teaching. Uncle James and Aunt Dedra drove down to Virginia for the funeral as well. We packed in a Lincoln town car and drove to East End Baptist Church, Grandaddy’s former church. We met Uncle Mike, my other Uncle James, Aunt Sabrina, Aunt Sherita, my cousins Quentin, Brandon, and Marquis at the church. As we filed in, the church stood to acknowledge us. We sat in the front on the left side of the church and I laid on my mother’s shoulder. I cried the whole time. The floodgates of my eyes were broken and nothing could stop my tears. The slideshow that they had for my grandfather hit me to my soul because there was a picture of him holding me when I was a baby. That picture made me lose it. Water would not stop flowing from my eyes. My mother just held me the whole time as tears flowed from both of our faces. My family could have filled the Atlantic three times over with our tears. After the pastor gave his sermon and Aunt Sherita’s solo, each of us walked towards the casket and placed a white rose upon it. Dad put his rose on it, then Aunt Sabrina, etc. My turn finally came and I looked at the flower. It took every ounce of strength to place it on the casket. When I put it down, I said the hardest words that I would ever say, “See you later, Grandaddy.”
