Helen Story: The Day My Grandmother Died

Alexis Adams

Descriptive Essay

English 101-11

15 September 2015

The day my grandmother died, Helen’s story

        Beep, beep, beep, this was the noise I had heard for the past two months. The beeping, the nurses coming in and out, and the visitors coming in and out, it was all starting to become normal. This day though seemed different. I don’t know why it just seemed different. To my left was my husband, his warm hand holding my cold hand sent butterflies from my stomach through my hand. In front of me stood my niece and her husband. You could see the tears in her eyes. I could almost taste the saltiness of the tears that I had cried as I watched her let the tears go. I could smell the sweet essence of all the perfume on all of the people I had hugged since I was small. To my right was my daughter and her husband. They had been there since 4:00 this morning, and my daughter was asleep on her husband’s shoulder. I could feel my husband’s shoulder under my head as I slept on it. In the far right corner I saw Jesus. Jesus was holding a bouquet of balloons. The balloons varied in shapes and colors, butterflies, flowers, pink, purple, red, blue, yellow, and orange.

        My daughter’s husband wakes her up. She walks over to me her warm hands grab my cold one. Her warm tears hit my hand right behind my thumb. I felt her soft lips kiss my cheek and felt one of the tears hit my cheek as she did. My husband’s soft lips kissed my hand. I saw Jesus put out his hand welcoming me to come with him.

        I could almost feel the balloons he was holding trying to pull me up to heaven but something was pulling me back down. I knew I had said goodbye to my grandchildren and great grandchildren. I had told them the one last thing I wanted to tell each of them. I had felt their tears as they had given me their last hugs. I could hear my granddaughter tell me that she loved me which had never happened as I felt her hug me and smelled the green apple scented shampoo in her hair. My daughter then walked over and put her arm around her dad and told him that he needed to let me know it was ok. He leaned down and his soft lips kissed my hand one last time and I heard the words “It’s ok, I will be ok, go, go be with God.” His soft voice was shaking and the tears were falling onto my hand the whole time he said these last words. In that moment I saw a swarm of pale white butterflies fly all around me, I felt the balloons pull me up, and I felt Jesus grab my hand and walk me to those pearly gates. As I walked up to the gates I saw all those I loved that had gone before me standing there waiting for me. It really was like the Mark Schultz song “Cloud of Witnesses.”

        I could look down and see my entire family. I could see my oldest granddaughter sitting in bible class in Joplin taking notes over the book of john and messing around with the teacher, I could see her in front of the class playing a game with a partner over the themes of the bible. I could see my grandsons sitting in their classrooms in Carthage listening to their teachers. I could see my great granddaughters in their classes in Carl listening to their teachers and playing on the playground. I could see my youngest two great grandchildren at their daycare playing with the other kids like it was an ordinary day. Little did they know they would get the shocks of their lives.