My Grandfathers are both dead. They died before I was born.
My grandmother from father side passed away when I was 7.
It was during the holidays and I had gone with my other grandmother to see my mom.
My mom took me to see her because she had requested it.
When we got there, I cried and didn’t let her carry me, My mom asked me why and I said it was because she was too old.
Eventually before we left, I let her carry me.
I even told her bye and pecked her on the check.
The next day, my mom got a call telling her that my grandma had died.
Some people say I could smell the death on her and that was why I ran from her.
Now, the only surviving grandparent I have is my mother’s mother.
I love that woman to pieces… I mean she practically raised me and there is nothing I wouldn’t do for her.
About a year after I came to stay with my mom, I heard my grandma was having a hard time walking and two years after that,
she had a cancer scare.
They had to remove all her somatic cells.
I thought she was better but no one told me that she was admitted into the hospital and placed on a treatment.
No one would tell me what kind of treatment it is, so I don’t even know if it is chemotherapy.
I plan to go see her soon despite her effort to convince me that she is fine.
I need to be sure of it. I can’t afford to lose her… the woman is my childhood.
If she decides to go anywhere before I am ready to let her go…I’ll go with her.
When I think of her, I remember the time I stole money from her bag to buy gum… cause she has a no gum policy.
I didn’t know that she actually used to count her cash, down to the last cent.
She found out and she beat me senseless (exaggerating but it was painful) and at the time I thought she was wicked but now I am actually grateful to her.
I can never be called a thief in my life because of the morals she instilled in me.
In fact, when I see money that doesn’t belong to me, I run the other way (again…exaggerating).