Fourteen-year-old me
           Growing up my grandmother was my best friend, I spent every waking moment with her. She taught how to appreciate old movies (like Big Jake or White Christmas), how to cook old family recipes, and how to go yard sale hunting. I still remember the day my dad sat me down to tell me my grandmother, my best friend, had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and no one knew how much time she had left. I remember my heart sinking but I still did not fully realize what the future held yet. I spent every weekend from that point forward with my grandmother, creating every memory possible of her. I wanted to be able to tell my kids stories of their amazing, crazy, loving great-grandmother.
           The summer before my eighth grade year, at fourteen, I learned what loss was. I remember going to my aunt’s house and seeing my grandmother for the first time in a few months. I remember being in complete shock when I first saw her. She was a shell of the lady I once knew, she didn’t talk or eat or have energy for anything. The hospice worker told us that if we wanted to say goodbye, we should say our goodbyes now while we had the chance.
           I remember walking into my grandmother’s room, grabbing her hand, and telling her it was okay to let go. At fourteen I had to learn to not be selfish and how to lie to the people you love. I told her it was okay to not keep her promises and that I would be okay without her. But I really wanted to tell her that she had to be at my high school graduation, that she had to be there on my wedding day, that she had to be there when her great-grandchildren were born, and that I would not be okay without her. I was only fourteen, I wasn’t ready to let go yet. I didn’t say any of those things though, I did the right thing and I was selfless. Four days later my grandmother died; it’s been seven years since she passed away now but I still miss her every day. There are still days that I pick up the phone forgetting that I can’t tell her about my day or my latest accomplishment.
           At fourteen I learned how to let someone I love go and still be okay. Â