I believe in the afterlife

This I Believe…

When I was a kid, my parents worked from seven in the morning, until five in the evening. They could never really pick me up from school, so I rode a bus to my great-grandmothers.

My great-grandmother was always there for me no matter what I needed for whatever reason. I could always talk to her about anything that was bothering me. Since I was at her house after school every day until I was around fourteen, we spent a lot of time together. When her mother died, I was young and did not really know about death or think about the afterlife to much, but when I saw my great-grandmother so sad and I realized what was happening, I started thinking about things a lot more.

After that I still talked to my great-grandmother a lot, but not like we used to. It just felt weird, after I saw her that depressed and sad, to talk to her about things I was thinking about. We eventually grew close again and I knew that she really was always there for me.

Time went by and she started getting sick. Her doctors put her on all kinds of medication; she was taking around 10 or more pills a day. It got to the point where the pills were making her sicker than she actually was. My family started noticing this and told her to quit taking all her medication for a week to see if she got better. She did, and we got so mad with the doctor and ended up taking her to an out of town doctor.

The new doctor actually gave her the right medication that helped her, and she told me that she felt so much better than she had in years, I was ecstatic to hear that. About 3 months later, I was out with my friends when I got a call from my mom to come to the hospital. My great-grandmother was in the ICU and we were told that she would be lucky to make it through the night.

My entire family was there. I had never seen everyone together in one room without an argument going on until then. She could barely speak, and when we understood her, she was saying my name and asking to talk to me. I was almost in tears at this point, everyone was. My little cousin could not even stay in the room.

When I talked to her, she was kind of out of it. All she was doing was asking if I was there and where I was at. I was holding her hand and telling her I was right there with her and it was ok. She went to sleep after about an hour, and we all let her sleep. She had a minor surgery to help her breath better, and she made it through the night!

The morning after, we got the call. She had died in her sleep the next day after we all left. The last thing we understood her say was my name. I can not even express how bad it felt or how sad I was, but I felt happy at the same time that she did not have to suffer anymore because I know she was in a lot of pain.

Watching someone you love die right in front of you, and knowing that there was nothing you could do about it but watch and pray is the worst feeling anyone can ever have. I know that we go on to a better place after we die and I know my great-grandma will be there waiting for me on the other side. This I believe…