Something my grandma was always excited about were the huge hawks in her backyard. The phone would ring, and someone in my family would answer to their eardrums getting shot out to my grandmother squealing with excitement about these birds. Now, the phone doesn’t ring. I don’t get to hear my grandmother’s voice, I will never again hear the excitement in her squeals. The best part of my day is seeing a big bright hawk soar through the skies. The hawk is a reminder that she is no longer with me, but it is also a symbol of her presence. 

This story starts in the living room of my home, where my mother received a very concerning phone call. I remember I was working in our home office, perfecting my latest painting when I heard small cries. At first, I thought it was the sound of the TV echoing in the halls, but I still felt the urge to investigate. I was shocked to have seen my dear mother, sobbing uncontrollably on the living room couch. I was not supposed to find out the news in this way, but we had received news that my grandmother was diagnosed with stage three uterine cancer. This news was devastating to me and my entire family. My grandmother had just recovered from a different medical emergency, so news of such a high stage of cancer was very worrying. This event was the catalyst of extreme changes for the next few months of my life. 

It was the day before Thanksgiving, and my mom and I took a quick stop at our local grocery store to buy some last-minute things for Thanksgiving dinner. We also had to pick up some cleaning supplies for my grandmother’s bedroom. We promised her that after the holiday we would deep clean her bedroom because it was almost uninhabitable. The smell of cigarettes was embedded in the walls, dust bunnies piled under the bed, piles on top of piles of clothes on the floor, and a strange yellow stain from water damage on the ceiling. We wanted to do something special for her since her chemotherapy treatments had become very hard for her. My grandmother would call my mother and cry on the phone about how her recent showers resulted in clumps of hair clogging the drain. She didn’t feel like herself anymore. Deteriorating away, she didn’t have the confidence that she once had. So, our visiting her was going to be the peak of her week. She was so excited for us to come over and clean, but a phone call at this moment would change my life forever. 

We were standing in the cleaning aisle of the store when we heard the phone ring. We had known that my grandma’s condition wasn’t great; she had just started chemotherapy and it was making her feel very sick and lightheaded. I couldn't hear much, but from what I could hear, it sounded really bad. My mom’s eyes filled instantly with tears, she let out a little whimper to which I ran over to comfort her. I have never seen my mom break down like this, I didn’t know what to do. I feel like ever since we were kids, we always assumed our parents had no emotion. That their only purpose was to take care of us, so seeing my mother cry the way she did- in the middle of the supermarket- broke my heart. At that moment, I felt numb and clueless. I was in denial that all of this was happening. I knew that my grandmother was diagnosed with cancer, but I thought she could beat it. Everybody thinks they can beat cancer, but some aren’t blessed with that strength. My grandmother was the kindest soul, she always cared about other people before her. She loved bragging about her grandchildren’s successes over any of her own. How could God do this to someone so perfect? 

I remember walking to the car during a November rainstorm, having to drive home without much driving experience. Everything I did that night felt wrong. I vaguely remember cleaning the entire house, baking things for my mom trying to make her feel better, and organizing all of the cabinets on the first floor. While doing all of this, I didn’t shed a single tear. I was completely in denial that my Grandmother was extremely sick. I was distracting myself from what was really going on. I did not want to admit to myself that I was going to lose my grandmother; one of the most important women in my life. 

This experience seemed so surreal to me, and it changed my outlook on life completely. After two days of being in and out of hospitals, the morning after Thanksgiving, I was woken up by my Mom, with tears in her eyes to tell me, “We lost your grandmother this morning”. These were the words that broke me. After all of this time, feeling absolutely nothing, six words… six words shattered my soul. I couldn’t control my crying. Gasping for air between weeps will be something I will never forget. I felt as if the world around me was collapsing into itself. My earth had been shattered, and I felt like there was no escape. I stepped outside into the freezing cold weather, wearing barely any winter clothes, and I stood with myself. I stood there, on the patio, to see a majestic hawk land its talons on a branch right above my head. I rubbed my eyes to see if this was really something that was happening; I couldn’t believe it. I felt that I was in the presence of my grandma. 

Seeing this hawk brought me so much comfort, I felt that I was at home, or at peace. I realized then that, no matter if I lost someone, there will always be something to remind me of them. The world will seem dark for a very long time, but if I look hard enough, there will be a small light always shining. I began to remember all of our good memories, and that way, I will remember her the way that I want, and not those last moments. I won’t forget the hard parts, but I have learned that there is always hope and good memories, and never let those bad memories take over the good. I love and miss you, Grandma.