The last time I saw my Grandma, she was smiling like always as she walked up the stairs. I saw the glow in her eyes and the spring in every step she took. The slightly pale nature in her cheeks was the only indication that something was off. She whispered in my ear that she wasn’t doing well but I brushed it off, assuming she had allergies. I looked in her eyes and confidently said, “It’s okay, I know you’ll feel better soon.” Then I added one last “I love you” and left to go on with my day. A few days later she was gone.
Growing up, my Grandma had been my best friend.  had always felt safe knowing that if I was having a bad day I could go to her house, curl up to watch the Sound of Music, our favorite movie, and all of my troubles would slowly melt away. When I spent time with my Grandma, nothing else in the world mattered. I couldn’t help but laugh and smile every minute I was with her. Then one day, she was gone. For some people it was no surprise. For me, it was out of the blue. In my mind, my Grandma was invincible, so when people told me she was sick it never registered what sick really meant. After her death, I was shaken by the news that she had been battling cancer for twelve years. I didn’t understand how that could be possible because she never let herself look weak or allowed anyone to treat her any differently than they had when she was still a peppy High School Cheerleader. As thoughts raced back in fourth in my head I searched for a warning sign I might have missed. But, all I could remember was how how happy she always was. I tried to console myself by saying she was just on vacation. The week of the funeral went by painfully slow, everywhere I went someone was next to me to remind me that my best friend was never going to be able to watch a movie with me again and never going to be able to just sit around and talk. When I said goodbye for the last time at the funeral, I felt my heart sink down to the bottom of my stomach and shatter into a million pieces. I felt as though my life would never go back to normal and I would just have to accept that my life had ended the same day as hers.
When someone passes away, people will tell you to remember the happy times because the good memories will help you through the grief. But at that moment, I was so blinded by tears that happiness seemed unattainable. I did not understand how people could go on after losing the most important person in their lives. It was especially hard because I had never experienced a death in my family before. In fact I had never even been to a funeral before my Grandma’s. I found myself constantly thinking about the time we had together; memories would race through my head every hour, minute, and second of the day. Until, one morning I found the solution to my problem through the actions of my Grandma.  I went back to that last day I saw her and remembered her warm, inviting smile and that last hug we shared. I could almost feel the strength of her love wrapping its arms around me. I realized that my Grandma would have wanted me to continue on living my life as a strong individual and to not get scared in the face of life’s challenges. Just like our favorite movie  says “When I'm feeling sad/I simply remember my favorite things/And then I don't feel so bad.” Today, when I’m feeling alone and the tears begin building up, I step back and remember my Grandma and how she never stopped smiling even in the darkest times. When I think of everything she went through, I get a boost of strength, and I feel as though I can go on and make new memories. The strength she had is what keeps me going. I feel as though as long as I’m strong and brave a part of her is still here with me.