Helen Story: The Day My Grandmother Died

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I could see my daughter’s husband walking around the room on the phone while my husband held my hand. Because he is a funeral director, I assumed he was on the phone with his funeral home trying to figure out how to transport the body to prepare it for the funeral. I didn’t want my body buried, I wanted to be cremated and I had told my daughter this. I heard them say it wouldn’t be fair to cremate the body before the funeral because kids wouldn’t be able to say goodbye so it would just end up being harder on them. I heard my daughter call my granddaughter and I could see her eyes get wide when she looked at her phone and realized something bad had happened. I saw her call my daughter back and then her eyes filled up with tears and the tears started to roll, she decided not to leave the school because they had a play at the end of the month and she wanted to help get ready for it. When she got home I watched her walk up the carpeted stairs to her room and lay on her bed and just let the tears stream down. I saw her get mad at God and ask “why he would do this, why would he take me from her this close to her high school graduation?” I wanted to go down and show her that I was in a better place but knew I couldn’t. Then her dad called her and they were talking and he told her that I was able to walk on my own again and that I wasn’t in pain anymore. All day it was like a giant worship service, everyone with their hands rose high worshipping their God and I loved every minute of it. This was my last day. That was why it felt so different. This was the day I died.

In memory of my grandma Helen Juanita Tucker, February 9, 2015.

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