My Death, My Future

I am so exhausted. It was a very emotional, draining year. I remember May 21 as if it were five minutes ago. I sat on the cold, hard chair, waiting to hear the results from my doctor. I nervously played with the string from my purple hoodie. After what felt like a generation, Dr. Hopkins finally walked in. I watch her intently, while she went behind her desk and sat down. She raised her ice, blue eyes towards mine, and I could see the seriousness of her facial expression.

"I'm sorry to say this, but you have stage 4 renal cancer. It has spread past your kidneys to your liver, lungs, and heart. You have six months to a year. I would get all important set up sooner than later. The worse it gets, the harder it will become." Dr. Hopkins said regretfully.

After those words, I could not recall what she told me. I became lost in my own head, in my own thoughts, my fears, my sorrow. The sorrow was not for me, but for the loss of not being able to be there when my children become grandchildren. I will not be able to watch my grandchildren graduate high school. I would miss little Violet finding her first love, miss being able to hold her and comfort her when she had her first heartbreak. I barely remember walking out of that doctor's office let alone how I got home.

Now, nearly a year later, I lay at my home, hospice always by my side. My children are hear also, with my grandchildren, we all know it's almost over. It has become more difficult for me to breath, even with the oxygen at full blast. I use all my energy to keep my eyelids open. I cannot figure out what everyone is saying. I think I lost my ability to hear. I shut my eyes, no long to be able to keep them open. It was such a burden to keep them open anymore, like having ten pound bricks upon them. I could feel my breathing becoming shallow, my heartbeat becoming farther and farther apart.

"This is the end." I thought to myself, with my last living breath.

I hear noises, some mutters, some cries, I open my eyes. Everything looks different, as I am looking through a glass wall. Everyone in this small room, cluttered together, arms across each other in a group hug, sobbing. I wonder what is wrong, why is everyone so sad, then they lift up and see the body, my body. I am dead. That is why they are sad. I feel distraught myself, not knowing how to comfort them. Not knowing how to make them feel better. Not knowing how to let them know I am ok, I am actually a lot better. I do not hurt anymore.

I go around the room, trying to touch them lovingly, one by one to show them I am okay, but to no avail. They cannot feel my touch. I try talking, but they cannot hear my words, my cries, my screams. I remember movie shows with ghosts making things move and the living seeing it, I tried to move a glass, but it failed.

Defeated, I sat down and curled up in to a ball, joining my family, sobbing. I have felt heartbreak, but nothing has been worse than this. My family was hurting because of me, but there was absolutely nothing I could do to comfort them. I cried harder and harder. It felt like eons, sitting there, truly alone.

Finally the tears stopped. I looked up, and to my surprise, it looked like my youngest grandson, Odin, was staring right at me. Dumbfounded, I stared straight back. Finally, I was able to get an ounce of courage, and asked, "Can you see me?"

"Yes, Grandma," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Why are you sad?" he whispered.

"I am sad because all of you are sad because of me," I replied.

"Well that's silly Grandma," Odin giggled.

"How is that silly?" I asked confused.

"Because you are sad that we are sad. Yup, we are sad because we wont be able to see you anymore, but we are happy you don't hurt anymore Grandma. You don't hurt anymore do you?" He said in a worried voice.

"No, Love, I do not, I actually feel very well," I said, shocked at those words myself. I could not remember before this when I was not in pain.

"I am so happy Grandma!" Odin exclaimed.

Odin turned his head up, away from me. I followed his gaze, and saw the most miraculous view. Above, were the most magnificent colors, almost like clouds, but they were not. It was the whole universe above me.

"Grandma, I think it's your time to go," He softly spoke to me.

"Where Love?" I asked.

"Up there Silly, to your future, your next big adventure, Grandma," Odin said giggling again.

At that moment, I felt a calm and peace I have never felt before. The next thing I felt was a soft tug, as my soul started floating up, up to the unknown adventure.

"Bye, Bye, Grandma! See you in the next adventure!" Odin waved.