No One Is Ever Really Gone

Generally, I’m a happy person, without a care in the world; or, at least I use to be. It was the end of May, May 23rd, 2007 to be exact. It was around 9:45 a.m. when I left the house that morning, filled with the excitement of taking my last high school final ever that morning. Before I went to school though, I stopped at Sippican Nursing home to have a quick visit with my grandmother before my final exam. I walked in the room, only to find her so peacefully lying there. She looked to delicate and fragile, like the slightest forced move would break her into a million pieces. Trying not to disturb her, I lightly kissed on the forehead and whispered in her ear, “I’ll be back soon, I promise. I love you and I will see you soon Vav.” I quickly said good morning to the nurses on her floor before leaving, and then headed off to my English exam full of excitement and confidence that I was going to do very well.

Finally, it was over, my high school career had come to an end. No more teachers or tests, (until college, of course), and finally I was officially on summer vacation. Walking down the hall for the very last time, my principal stopped me. “Talia, before you leave, I would like to share some good news with you.” he told me. Good news, what news could be better than high school is finally over and summer vacation has just begun? When he shared the news with me, I couldn’t believe it, it was more than good news, it was amazing news. “I just wanted to let you know that due to your hard work and devotion over the past four years, you will be graduating ORR with honors.” I couldn’t believe what he has just told me. Me, of all people, was graduating with honors. This was like a dream come true, but it was actually happening, to me. I couldn’t wait to get to the nursing home to share this newly acquired information with my grandmother, she would have been so proud of me. Not only was I the first person in my family going to college, but now this? It was truly amazing.

I ran to my car, which is odd, because I never run, unless it is absolutely necessary. Keeping my promise, I pulled up to the nursing home around 11:00 a.m. I ran to the elevator, and then to her room ready to burst with excitement, but when I got there, all that excitement left my body as quickly as it entered it. She had changed, drastically. She was no longer this porcelain doll laying in an uncomfortable bed. Her skin had changed, she was now as white as a ghost on the outside, but on the inside, she was fighting a losing battle. She was no longer the strong and determined women I had known all my life. The cancer was finally winning the long battle, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. I knew the worst coming, but I didn’t want to admit it, because if I did, my worst nightmare might actually come true. I sat there for what seemed like hours holding her hand while the helpless tears streamed down my face. Reality hit and I knew it was coming. I don’t really remember what happened next, because the minutes seemed like hours. All of a sudden, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and when I looked up, I remember seeing some family members, along with the justice of the peace. The rest of what happened is a bit foggy to me, a distant memory that I never wanted to have. All I remember though, was holding her hand and telling her it was okay to go, that she didn’t have to suffer any more, even though that was a lie. I didn’t want her to leave, not at all. I was being selfish, I wanted to keep her all to myself for as long as possible, but I knew that could never happen.

Leaving Sippican Nursing home for the last time, I walked to my car thinking how I felt last time I walked to my car, only a few hours earlier. I was filled with excitement and joy that was ready to burst out of me, and now, I was filled with devastation because the lady who had been my idol and a mother to me for eighteen years was no longer here. I went home that day to an empty house, although it wasn’t the first time being alone in my house, it felt different. It was cold and lonely. Reality had hit me, she would never walk through the front door again or yell down the hall to me to turn my music down, or just be there when I needed someone to talk to or to share things with. All I had left of her were the memories, which would never die.

My face that day was full of uncontrollable tears, which still happens today. But through it all, I remembered something that she had told me when I lost a close friend to a car accident the year before. She told me that no one is ever really gone as long as you hold them in your heart, and remember all the times, both good and bad, that you shared with that person, and as long as you do that, no one will ever be completely gone.