THIS I BELIEVE

 

My grandmother was always an instrumental part of my life.  My father was working and my mother was in college when I came into the world, so my grandparents acted as my babysitters.  Their house became a second home to me.  My favorite childhood memories consist solely of the summer nights spent there.

My grandmother was my greatest teacher.  She taught me how to paint, to write, to read, to sew, to do crosswords, to laugh, to love.  She made learning an adventure.  Each day she offered me a chance to grow.

My grandmother was also my greatest friend.  As time passed, I grew older, accumulating youthful stories of achievements and loves and losses.  I told her everything.  I sought her advice, finding solace within her pearls of wisdom.

But as I grew older, so did she.  Her body began to fail her.  She struggled with cancer for many years along with various diseases brought about by her weak immune system and notoriously frequent cigarette smoking.  She developed dementia; I came to expect her calling me by another relative’s name.  Come high school, my grandmother left the house only for visits to doctors and hospitals.  She was still the woman whom I looked up to, though — whom I praised for raising me so well.

I went to college two weeks after graduating high school.  Beforehand, I had never been away from my family for more than a few days.  It was an adjustment that became difficult to make when my grandmother’s health declined rapidly.  She made a trip to the emergency room on my birthday, July 23rd, as I went to my morning class.  Two weeks later, on her birthday, August 6th, she attempted to overdose on antidepressants.  I visited her the next weekend, and she wasn’t the same woman.  Her last words to me that day were “I love you more,” a response I had received since I was little but only just then understood.

On August 21st, my grandmother passed away.  I was given the news just as I was about to leave to see her a final time.

My grandmother was my greatest teacher.  She taught me to be strong for her when she couldn’t be, to smile even when there is little to smile about.  My grandmother was my greatest friend.  The loving memories I have of her light even the darkest of nights.

I believe that every second is precious.  I believe that life should be lived in the grandest ways, and to accomplish this, I believe that life should constantly be filled with love.  Life is too short for worries, regrets, and fears; the future is promised to no one.  When I was worried or fearful, my grandmother filled me with love — something for which I am forever grateful.  Her love shaped me as a person, and love shapes us all.  This is why I believe that love is the greatest gift in life.