"March 16" by Jenny A

March 16th, 2017

On March 16, 2017 at 5:45 in the morning, I received the worst news of my life.

I was sound asleep when all of a sudden I was woken up by chilling screams from my mother and unfamiliar sobs from my father. I was dazed and couldn’t really get up, I thought that I was just dreaming these horrific sounds, but little did I know it was all too real. My dad, a man who always has a smile on his face, shook me twice, tears trickling down his face, and said the scarring words, “Grandpa is dead.”

I felt my heart drop. I lost all my senses. Nothing felt real. This didn’t feel real, but it was. The first thing I did was scream— screamed in utter shock because my best friend of 17 years, the man everyone looked up to, the man who raised and nurtured an entire village in Nigeria, the man who I would run to for security has died.

My mother. How the hell does she feel? Forget me, forget my siblings, forget my dad. My mother just lost her father, the first man she ever loved. How does one even handle news like that?

She was outside sobbing, “Why?” to the heaven in pitch black because the sun hadn’t risen yet. Ain’t it funny how nature is affected by events. It's just like the Great Chain of Being. I ran to her, I held her, and we cried. We cried in the driveway until the sun finally came up. She was a baby under my touch. I'm used to stepping up to become the mother figure, but it was different being the strong one for my mother. When she finally calmed down, we went back inside. My sister had finally woken up and heard the news, but my brother was still asleep which made sense, it was only 7 a.m., but it felt like eternity. The room was silent and felt cold--- all I wanted to do was sleep, but I couldn't. My mind was consumed by the constant thought of him. The day didn't get easier, I didn't expect it to. We spent all afternoon spreading the news to everyone, and if I'm being honest, I was sick of it. I was sick of the "I'm sorry for you loss" responses and I hated every sympathetic hug I received. I just wanted to mourn in peace, to curl up in my room and shut the world out. I began to question my fate; "Why does God take away the good people in this world?"

I thought it should have been me. I blamed myself for not making the effort to reach out to him as much as I could have and I still blame myself to till this day, but I know that everything happens for a reason. Although I don't fully understand the reason why such a beautiful soul was taken away from my family and I, I do know that he is still looking after us. I talk to him before every performance and every night before I go to bed. My grandfather's death taught me especially to appreciate life to the fullest. He was a man that only LOVED. He didn't have any enemies because he was always the bigger person in situations. He was empathetic, free-spirited, nurturing and generous. He is the reason why I strive to be great. Everything I do is for him, and I hope he sees that wherever he is.