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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short story about me and my coping when I lost my dear grandmother.

Submitted: September 28, 2011

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Submitted: September 28, 2011



by Ingelin Ida Hansen

I was alone. The whole weekend came by without me even noticing it. I just lay in my bed, staring at the wall. I was paralyzed and felt out of power. The pain hammered to my chest. It wanted out. And sooner or later it had to. It physically hurt in my heart. But I wasn’t ready to let it show on the outside just yet.  I could pretend like nothing happened, and I could travel back whenever I wanted.

The soft hand in mind, it was like holding a child hand. The oxygen mask around her face hid her smile. I could picture her face, the face who expressed happiness for the small things. I could still hear her laughing if I wanted to.

My grandmother was the last one. I had only her, now I have no one. Well, that’s wrong, but it’s still the same emptiness. A whole generation disappeared from my life. Do people expect me to act older now?

I just wanted to stay in bed. I didn’t like people hearing me cry, so I kept to myself. All by myself. I was sick. My breath stopped. I gasped for air. I didn’t care about the sound anymore. It could be as loud as it wanted. I couldn’t control myself anymore. The sound filled the room, hit the walls and hit me back.

I heard someone come into the room. I would do anything to turn around and look into my grandmothers eyes. But I knew that would never happen. I knew that. My mother was standing in the doorway. She looked at me with care, like my grandmother would do. Her eyes shimmered.
 -I know, she said.
I nodded. I wanted to hit myself where I hurt, to show her. But as she understood what I wanted, she nodded back.
-I know, she repeated.
The tears kept on coming. I couldn’t help it.
-I know, I know, I know, she continued.
It was like she really wanted me to know that she knew what I was going trough. That she really, really understood.

She held me in her arms and hushed me in my ear.  I couldn’t get enough air to my head and soon I was swaying back and forth in her arms. I wasn’t able to stay up anymore. I sat down on the bed, and mom sat down beside me. The pain in my head drifted, but I could still feel the pain in my heart. The crying calmed down as well and I sat starring at the floor. Mom stroked my back. I could feel the paralysis coming back, my power drove from me once again.

After many minutes of silence I stood up. We didn’t have to say anything. Moms’ eyes told me what she wanted to say. The things she didn’t want to find words to. What was best said without words.

© Copyright 2018 Ingelin . All rights reserved.

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