The Day She Entered Heaven

   For a while Thanksgiving seemed to bring bad luck for my family. When I must have been about seven years old, Great Grandma got sick on or near Thanksgiving. I think we were at Nana's house when Mom told my sister and I, but I'm not absolutely sure. There might have been a lump of worry in my stomach, but I wasn't too concerned. Great Grandma had been sick before and she was always fine. Nobody I knew had ever died, so I guess it didn't seem possible.

    It was probably a few weeks later that we took the drive that I don't remember in our dirty red van with Dora stickers on the inside of the windows to the hospital. There was a long wait in the clean but stale smelling waiting room with Grandma and Grandpa and a lot of other family.

    Someone brought sparkly beads and pipe cleaners and I made a bracelet that I thought should be in a jewelry store. Kennedy (my sister) and I played with our baby dolls that we had brought on the sticky hospital cushions. Eventually I got board and got crayons and construction paper to make a storybook about those dolls. My first story. Kennedy's doll was the magic princess named Makaila. The story was called "Magical Makaila". It was very heavily inspired by Sofia the First and Cinderella even made a special appearance in it. I was proud of my tiny illustrated book when it was finished and stapled together (though I'm not sure where I got all the supplies). I think it was Grandma who said that Great Grandma would love for me to read her my story and Dad who explained that Great Grandma wasn't able to talk so I knew she wasn't ignoring me.

    So the two of them took me to the small room where she was. I think I got a hug from those weak arms. She looked so different laying there in some hospital gown instead of her usual big shirts with teddy bears and kittens on them in old lady designs. I sat down and read the story and she smiled when it was finished. I don't exactly remember what happened next, but in a while we were in our red van again, getting ready to leave. I remember most of the time I felt a little bit nervous but mostly indifferent about the whole situation. I didn't think she could die because I just couldn't imagine it. But then Dad was telling us about her last breath and how she had smiled, excited to see the Lord. "Don't say 'last breath,'" Kennedy said through tears. "It sounds too sad."

    I love my Great Grandma, who, even while she was dyeing, listened to me yammer on about princesses. She heard my first story and I can picture her up there smiling about how far I've come. Great Grandma was an amazing Christian woman and I know she is in heaven praising God right now. I can't wait to see her again one day and read her another story. This one will be about God's grace.

Sections: Christianity, Confused, Creative Essays, Dreams, Family, Hope, Kids, Nonfiction, Peace, Real Characters, Sad, Writers