I have decided to post something very dear to me. I dont' mind sharing it with you. Note this will be in parts.


This is part 1

8 DAYS
By C

Thursday November 2, 2006 7:27 pm
I am sitting on the couch watching T.V. when the phone rings. It’s my brother, J.
“Hey” I say.
“Hey bro…” he replies, with a worried tone in his voice. “I’m calling you because grandma is sick and she has been calling your name non-stop for the past hour or so.” In the background I hear my grandmother call me by my childhood nickname, “Ti-Ti-lie.”
“What happened?” I ask, “How long has she been sick?” I can hear her crying, and repeating my name, saying how much she loves me.
“I don’t know but I think that you should talk to her”, he says.
“Hello? Grandma?” What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
“Ti-Ti-lie, I love you!” she utters. “I love you Ti-Ti-lie. Ti-Ti-lie. Ti-Ti-lie. I love you.”
In the background I hear J telling her to please calm down.
“Hello?” he says.
“Yeah. Listen,” I tell him, “I am already packing up my stuff and walking out the door. With traffic, I should be there within an hour. I will call you when I am passing Ontario.”
I hang up the phone. I can’t help feeling terrified because of the situation. Somehow in the recesses of my mind I know that the time I have been dreading is now upon me. I only wish that I were wrong. I grab my backpack and fill it with my bare necessities: toothbrush, pants, shirt, boxers, a book, and my ipod- Yes! It is a necessity- and I storm out of my apartment.
As I am fighting traffic, bobbing and weaving on the 210, I begin phoning my school administration informing them that I will not be at work the next day. I struggle to hold back my tears but the terror of losing my grandmother overcomes me. The knot within my throat tightens more with every breath I take; while my eyes attempt to hold back the deluge of tears rapidly seeking an outlet. Shortly after my dam of tears is empty, I gather my composure and focus on reaching my destination.
It is around nine o’clock when I barge in to my aunt’s house throw my stuff near the door and rush towards my grandmother’s bedroom. I storm into her cramped bedroom which makes me feel claustrophobic because of all her furniture: armoires, bed, night-tables, television, a chair. I totally ignore my brother and my cousin.
“I’m here, my baby. I’m here to take care of you,” I utter as I see her sitting on her bed. She is wearing her thin old nightgown which reveals more than I care to see. Her back is leaning against the headboard.
“Here he is, the one you have been calling for all night, your Ti-Ti-lie” J tells grandma, with a playful and jealous pitch in his voice. I quickly take off my shoes; get in bed with her and sit behind her. I pull her towards me, having her lean on me.
“Ti-Ti-lie. I love you,” she says.
“I love you too, grandma. What is wrong?” I say, as a knot forms in my throat. I hug her.
“Say cheese.” says J as he takes a picture of me hugging her with my phone. Who would think that that picture will be our final picture together?
“Grandma, did you have something to eat? Your lips are dry, have some water please,” I plead.
“I love you, Ti-Ti-lie.” she whispers again while I hold her like a little baby, cradling her… wanting to take all her pain away.
My mother arrives shortly after me and begins tending to her as well.
“Mama, have you had something to eat?” my mother asks.
“No not yet” grandma replies.
“Well, let’s check your blood sugar level.”
My grandmother’s sugar level is dangerously low. My mother quickly orders me to give her 7-Up while she goes to the kitchen to prepare something for my grandmother to eat. My grandmother doesn’t have much of an appetite. She takes only a couple of spoonfuls of rice with chicken. As my grandmother procrastinates eating, my mother and I catch up on what has been going on with the family. My mother and I don’t have a close bond. Having a conversation with her is really an attempt to catch up with family news. She tells me that my Aunt M, had outpatient surgery to remove a lump of benign tissue from her breast. My mother believes that the stress of worrying about her daughter might have contributed to my grandmother’s undiagnosed illness.
It’s nearly midnight and I suggest to my mother that she go to sleep since she has difficulty sleeping. I assure her that grandma is in good hands and I will stay awake until she falls asleep. My mother complies with my recommendation, lies down next to my grandmother and dozes off.
There I am with my grandma lying ill and my mother asleep. I turn on the television and change the satellite channel to a soothing jazz station, hoping that my grandmother will relax and fall asleep. It was around two in the morning when my cousin, Norman, came in to check on us.
“Hey, what are you doing awake?” I ask.
“I always stay up late. I don’t go to sleep till around three or four in the morning. Do you need anything?” he answers.
“Thanks but no thanks. I have things under control. You should go to bed, dude.” I say.
“Yeah, okay, but if you need anything, wake me up” he adds emphasizing “anything.”
“Okay, goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow” I answer.
It’s a little bit past four in the morning when my grandmother falls asleep. I attempt to take a nap on the floor next to her but my senses are too alert to allow me to relax.

Part 2 tomorrow.

Beautiful