Life goes by in a blink of an eye. It’s almost been six years since my granddaddy past away. Motorcycles gave him life, yet it threw it all down the drain. Finding out what happened, the funeral, and moving on has been a whirlwind of emotions.
My mom never picked me up from the busstop, I always went to my babysitter’s house. She guided me at slightly slow tempo through the front door which is when my eye caught my dad and cousin, Nicole. Neither me nor Nicole knew what we were about to get told. I slowly sunk into my mother’s king sized bed as I got the news. “Mema and Grandaddy were in a accident,” my dad blankly stated because my mom couldn’t hold back the stream of tears behind her sockets. A bed is suppose to be comforting. Although, in that moment, it was colder than the chills on my arms.
I prepared a speech and was determined to it at the funeral. Standing in front of a mass assemblage and just few feet away from his lifeless body caused …show more content…
Grandaddy made me stubborn and taught me to “man-up”. I couldn't let what he thrust upon me go to waste. Nightmares occurred every night like a broken record. Getting up to go to school was more grueling than ever before. It was a ten pound weight on my shoulders.
I remember going back to school for the first time thereafter and while hanging up my bookbag everyone asked me what happened. Even so, it still stays tugging at my leg every once in a blue moon. Six years is a lot of time and tears still pop up before bed sometimes. Yet, I find joy in the little things we shared, our bond, too. He made me a light baby blue bicycle that past christmas. It’s still light baby blue.
Loss is hard. It includes all five stages of grief. Every sting of pain, all the nightmares, too.So many emotions went through my little eight year old brain as a discovered what happened that day, the failure of the funeral, and the unbearable moving on stage. But, I’m not alone in this difficult
My mom never picked me up from the busstop, I always went to my babysitter’s house. She guided me at slightly slow tempo through the front door which is when my eye caught my dad and cousin, Nicole. Neither me nor Nicole knew what we were about to get told. I slowly sunk into my mother’s king sized bed as I got the news. “Mema and Grandaddy were in a accident,” my dad blankly stated because my mom couldn’t hold back the stream of tears behind her sockets. A bed is suppose to be comforting. Although, in that moment, it was colder than the chills on my arms.
I prepared a speech and was determined to it at the funeral. Standing in front of a mass assemblage and just few feet away from his lifeless body caused …show more content…
Grandaddy made me stubborn and taught me to “man-up”. I couldn't let what he thrust upon me go to waste. Nightmares occurred every night like a broken record. Getting up to go to school was more grueling than ever before. It was a ten pound weight on my shoulders.
I remember going back to school for the first time thereafter and while hanging up my bookbag everyone asked me what happened. Even so, it still stays tugging at my leg every once in a blue moon. Six years is a lot of time and tears still pop up before bed sometimes. Yet, I find joy in the little things we shared, our bond, too. He made me a light baby blue bicycle that past christmas. It’s still light baby blue.
Loss is hard. It includes all five stages of grief. Every sting of pain, all the nightmares, too.So many emotions went through my little eight year old brain as a discovered what happened that day, the failure of the funeral, and the unbearable moving on stage. But, I’m not alone in this difficult