katie lienert age 11
i was already sweaty; putting on hot, dirty gear was not helping. wetness was building up underneath my eyes, it was sweat. i walk onto the field, but not for long. i hear my name get called… i walk confused off the field.
my dad starts taking off my gear eagerly. the faint rattling noise of my gear caused by my dad’s shaking hands fills my ears. i pull off my helmet and start helping my dad because it was obvious that i wasn’t playing anymore. i didn’t ask why he was doing this because at that moment a single tear ran down my dad’s eye. that tear was from a loss, a loss of his mother, my grandma.
my heart melted like butter on a hot plate. i didn’t understand why this was happening. but it wasn’t a sudden death, i saw it coming… just never under stood it. my grandma had many cancers, bone, breast, skin, lung and brain. i felt wetness building up underneath my eyes. but this time it wasn’t sweat.
i walk to the car, my stomach full of depression and sadness. my grandma was my everything. she was the pop to my tart the fruit to my loop, the rock to my roll and the star to my burst. but most of all she was the best to my friend.
we start driving home, the weather started going bad … like my feelings. thunderclouds rolling in, thick mist drifted around the car. i started thinking that no one would understand. i wanted to be sad and depressed. we got home and i went to the top of the stairs…i looked down at my front door; i waited and waited and waited for her to walk through my front door. sometimes i say “grandma….. are you there?” she doesn’t talk back but i know she is there. even though she is long gone, and in a better place, i still want her to come back and bake cookies like we used to. i still want her to come back and make those surprise visits with goodies galore! i want her to kiss me goodnight and tuck me in and comfort me by saying she’ll never leave. i still want her to whisper in my ear “i love you, i love you, i love you to the moon and back”. i still want her to walk through that door.