"My Torch" by Prasais T

 

 

It was 7th grade Jr. High, and my second year of being in an entirely new city, school, and distance from family. I was finally getting adjusted to our new life in this area, as we had come from the dusty mountains of Victorville. One day before bed, I went downstairs looking for a snack, but instead found my mom packing up clothes. Curiously I asked her where she was going, when she regretfully told me “grandpa had a heart attack, he’s in the hospital”. A little heart that day sank, in fear and worry for the health of my grandfather, not knowing at the time he had struggled with heart problems. She was packing up to drive over to him at the hospital in Las Vegas, which was now a three hour drive from home, the rest of the family followed that same night. Not knowing how long they would be gone, she said I had to stay home. Due to the fact that I used to be a chronic absentee, which had resulted in me only being able to miss a limited amount of unexcused absences. The consequences of violating the maximum amount was the chance of legal action being pursued by the school against my parents. A family member in the hospital, who had suffered a life threatening attack was not a valid excuse to miss school according to the district.

So I stayed home, watching them drive off feeling a mix of hopefulness and fear. My only other thought being how unfair it was for my sister to be able to go, but not me. The first grandchild, his first grandchild couldn’t be there. That feeling would soon be overwhelmed with something stronger, which was the feeling of regret.

Three days later, my mom still hasn’t come back. I went to school the same as any other day, my dad getting me ready, and dropping me off with an “I love you! Bye!”. My mind, now distracted with various school activities, friends, and homework, set off to my first period. The school day passed by fast, as the next thing I remember is getting in the car with my dad. We were driving down the curved street of S Heritage, waiting to turn right on Baseline, with the AC running, and the hum of radio in the background. Then my dad looked at me with glossy eyes, and a somber tone “Your grandpa passed away today”. It felt as if the world had stopped for a brief moment, the air now quiet and still. My face reacting faster than my brain could process what he had just said to me, as I just started balling. His hand, already on my back, trying to comfort a shattered heart. All I could think of was how I wasn’t there, angry at the school, angry at my mom for not letting me go, and so upset that everyone was there, except me. This anger later turned into a deep sense of regret, his very first grandchild, he was there for, could not be there for him in his final days. What was supposed to be a normal day at school, was replaced with a moment I still can’t forget.

After this news, now a couple days into October my parents sat me down for an important talk. How my grandfather's funeral would be on October 20th, my then 12th birthday. Naturally, I was distraught, a day that was supposed to be a celebration of life, turned into a day of remembrance and death. The same day I was born, was the same day we would lay my grandfather to his final rest.

Although, this experience has taught me something I doubt I could’ve learned anywhere else. Which was the true value of his life, as I now grow older with these memories, my mind has matured. From something that was now gloomy, has bloomed into a beautiful sense of love and remembrance. Now almost exactly five years later I’ve realized that his funeral was not just about him passing on, but a celebration and tribute to his life. While he has moved on, I now see that day as a torch, from him, now being passed to me. To take what he has taught our family about love, respect, and connection then pass it onto my youngest cousins/siblings by being the role model they look up to. Now that I am turning 17 soon, on October 20th, I still hold this now blazing torch high, being the guide I need to be for the next generation of my family.