Untitled

Memoir
1-08-09


                  A couple days before my eighth birthday I heard I was going to get ice-cream with my great grandmother in honor of our birthdays. We were going to go with my grandmother and her husband Ron.  We went Bangor where Gram and Ron lived we got to their house we heard she fell in her home. I think it was a neighbor who went to go return something and found her on the ground unconscious. They called 911, she was taken to the hospital. I was just silent, confused, upset, and hungry. There was not much I remember after that. All I remember is thinking is there going to be a funeral? 
                    
                    We got news months later. She was doing well at first but something went wrong. She had died. The one person who I was excited to meet died. That was so much for me to handle. I was glad she wasn't suffering anymore and she was going to a bigger, better and happier place. She was going to be with the Lord. I really didn't know her but I still had a spot in my heart for her. As I do with a lot of family. I believe  God's gift to the world is family and friends, watching over me and my family. Then she would know me after all. Thinking that is the only way I could accept it. Then I remember a silent and rainy day where we went to her home. HER home. I felt like an intruder, not knowing who this great lady was, hearing so many stories about her. I felt horrible, not like family. I wanted to get out of there and FAST. I wasn't able to. As you can tell when I was eight I was way wise beyond my years. They were going to move all of her stuff out. They were going to sell that house, that house with my great grandmother's belongings. I just wanted to leave it all there as a reminder of the great lady who live there.  But I was 8. Not my say in this situation. I kept quiet because I knew so many people where upset. More than I was. Ron accepted it. He was upset. I could tell but he accepted I knew better then to say anything that day. Then in the garage we all told stories. Her husband who died before her, before my time made canoes, was this giant canoe in the garage which they kept of course. Then I got to work. I was to take all the Cleaning supplies and put them on the floor. I did so, we also decided not tho let anything go to waste so my mother and father brought out to the car the things that we could make use of. Then I don't remember much. All I remember is driving by her house. It was remodeled and painted. The family that moved in there was a good family, with kids. I felt a little bit depressed but I made it through. After a couple years my parents divorce, I moved 5 times. In the same town. No changing schools involved at all. Good, I couldn't leave my friends! Then I started thinking about her again. What would I give to have somebody to talk to?