: Beep Beep Beep The Last Talk" by Zoe P

     The monitors chirp their monotonous little song for the hundredth time that day. The first couple days I was in the room, every little beep made me jump a mile high, always made my heart race a million miles per hour. But now, I merely glance at them, reading the numbers that I could recite by heart to this day.
     It was February third, twenty nineteen, with a sharp patter of rain banging on the hospital window that showcased the beauty of the hospital garden, but I could not appreciate it then and I can not appreciate it now, months later. Because, as ironic as it was, the life outside was not inside of my crumbling grandfather’s body, where it should have been. I turn away from the window, not knowing how long I had been staring out of it, thinking about what to say. As I look across the cold room, walls painted a blaring white and the coarse blankets a bland mixture of beige and green, I see him for what seems like the first time in forever. My grandfather was no longer the healthy, bike riding, painting handyman that he used to be a month before the chaos began. With each robotic step I take towards him, I feel the weight of the universe on my frail shoulders, a million thoughts racing in my drowsy head. “What do I say? Will this be the last thing I ever say to him? Is this our last moment alone?”
     The numerous machines and tubed hooked up to my grandfather’s body seemed to beep a little quieter as I began to talk to him. My grandpa opened his eyes, and looked at me with his beautiful blue green eyes, full of love, even when he was barely breathing, and that was all it took. I completely broke down, sobbing my heart out while holding his cold, skeletal hand, with

the hospital bracelet three times bigger than his wrist. I wailed that I was sorry for the things I had done, for the times where I didn’t appreciate everything that he had done for me. “I’m so sorry!” I howled, rocking back and forth like a mad woman. “I’m so sorry for every time I thought more about myself than you, or when I took your kindness for granted! I was a terrible granddaughter to you, and I love you so much! But please...” I pleaded with all my heart “Please, don’t leave me.” And as I was sobbing, my grandfather tried to talk to me, but couldn’t form any words as there were numerous tubes in him. But he knew this, and only mouthed the words that I needed to hear so desperately at the time.
     “I love you.” he said, and I took this one like a sword going through my heart. My grandfather was not a man to talk about his emotions much, and when he said these three words, it always meant the world to me. As I calmed down a bit, I began to reminisce on all of our adventures together, from a simple drive to school on a cold day, coffee in both of our hands, to a trip to Canada where we saw the most magnificent cities and forests. My mind racing like a prize winning horse in a derby race, all my recollections and memories flashed before my eyes as I held his hand.
     While I talked with him, I asked him questions- but they were like empty boxes that could never be filled, and will never be answered. My main question was:​ ​“Why,” I wondered, “Of all the people in the world, all the criminals and ill-natured, why did it have to be one of the most selfless, purehearted people I knew?”
     To this day, I’ll never have the answer of how within two months my grandfather was seemingly healthy to being on his deathbed, and I never will. At first, of course, I was blinded by rage and fits of melancholic depression, cursing the world for my problems. But over the course

of time, I’ve learned and grudgingly accepted that some questions will never be answered and that everything happens for a reason, and that some things are better left unsaid. And while I didn’t want my late grandfather to pass, I can say that through his passing, he’s taught me to remain strong for myself and for my family, to pursue my dreams, work hard, and to fight for what you love with every last breath you have.