There isn’t Always Going to be a Tomorrow.

By: Jennifer Banks

 Death… a word we hear often and fear.  But, what is the true meaning of this
word? Do we really know what it means to die?

           Growing up I attended a handful of wakes and funeral services. I experienced

the passing of my eight-eight year old aunt, and the untimely death of two
classmates in a deadly car crash during my senior year in high school.  But, the
reality of these deaths, while sad, just never really impacted my life. 

While upsetting and sad, I never really felt the true emotional impact of a
loss.  When you die, you don’t exist anymore. It is as if you never existed, except for
the tombstone in the cemetery, which now defines your life in a few words.  Most of
us will never truly understand the seriousness and emotion this five-letter word will
have upon us, until someone really close you passes away.
  
            A month ago, I was sitting in my dorm room writing a developmental
psychology paper when my pink blackberry started to ring. I recognized the
telephone number as my moms’. I thought, why does she call me at all the wrong
times. Doesn’t she understand I cannot be bothered chitchatting on the phone when
I have important schoolwork to complete?

  Finally, after the third ring, I answered the telephone and rudely asked, “Hey,
What’s up? I’m kinda busy.”

After my mom responds and tells me, “I am just calling you to let you know
grandma was brought to the hospital last night.” My heart stopped for a second, and
suddenly I was consumed with fear and concern. My grandmother is the rock of our
family. She has always been there for me growing up, but now I am stuck in Jersey,
unable to be near her during her time of need. 

“Is she going to be ok?, I asked.  “What’s wrong?”  

I could sense the tears in my mother’s eyes, as she told me, “Jenn, we’re not
sure. The doctors do not know what is wrong. She is very weak. I will call you when
we learn what is wrong.” After I hung up, I thought to myself, grandma is strong, and
I am sure she will be released from the hospital tomorrow.  

           The following night, my mother called me again, and explained the doctors
could not pinpoint what was wrong.  Later that evening I received a disturbing text
message from my sister, Melissa, “Jenn, I am so scared. grandma isn’t eating, she is
so weak. I don’t know what to do”. It hit me, maybe everything wasn’t going to be
okay, maybe this was a lot more serious then I thought it was. My mind began to
wander. Suddenly, I feared my grandma might actually die. I knew it would happen
some day. She is 85 years old. She could not live forever. But, this was my
grandmother, a positive and loving person. It could not be her time, because I still
had so much to learn from her. I still had not learned the secrets of her recipes for
Easter bread, or her famous grandpa Christmas cookies.  I still wanted to learn more
about my family history. My grandma tells the greatest stories, recalling the days of
her youth in the Depression era. I still wanted to tell grandma, I loved her. The fact
that I would not get that chance caused me to break down in tears.

            A few days later, I left school to visit my grandmother at the hospital. I was so
scared as I walked the long endless, mazelike hallways of North Shore Hospital. I
had butterflies in my stomach, and had absolutely no idea what to expect. I finally
approached my grandmother’s room. I took a long deep breath, closed my eyes, and
entered the room. I opened my eyes, and focused immediately upon my
grandmother’s wrinkled and withered face. She looked worse that I expected.  My
grandmother appeared so fragile and seemed to be in incredible pain. Was she dying
a slow death before my very eyes?  

            I reached over the bed rail, avoiding the tubes and wires surrounding my
grandmother, and kissed her wrinkly cheek. I sat in the room in silence, not knowing
what to say, holding her hand, and holding back my tears.

My grandmother struggled to get words out of her mouth, but managed to

say,  “Jenny, I hate that you have to see my like this.” As soon as she said this, my
eyes started to water. I tried to be strong, and hold back the tears, but I lost that
battle, and I began to cry.

I told her,  “Grandma you a strong woman, you will get through this, don’t
give up”. When it was time for me to leave the hospital I gave her a kiss and told her
that I loved her.

She faintly whispered, “I love you too darling, but I think its time for me to go
join Poppy in heaven.” At this point I walked out the room to my car.  When I
returned home I went to my room and began to cry. I was so upset grandma was
giving up; when I knew she could get through this, if she had the will to survive.

           A few days later I was sitting in my college dorm room when I received a
telephone call from my mother. This time, without hesitation I answered the call and
asked,  “Is everything okay? What happened?”

            My mother responded, “ Calm down Jenn, everything is fine, they found out
that grandma has a clogged artery in her heart, so they put a stent in her heart The
doctor said they should see improvements in her health soon.”

            This news made me so excited, and just a week later, later my grandmother
was released from the hospital and transferred to a rehabilitation facility to get
stronger.

           Death is just a five-letter word, but once you come across an experience like I
had, with someone so close and important to you, you truly understand its meaning,
and the emotions death can have on yourself and others.  Through this experience, I
have learned to appreciate life. There isn’t always going to be a tomorrow.

My relationship with my grandmother has grown since the day I held her
hand in the hospital. I go out of my way to visit her on breaks and during free
weekends. I long to listen to her stories about her brothers, her dad, and my
grandfather. Maybe the stories are long, maybe I even heard them before, but they
are her stories, which are so meaningful to my grandma and to me as well.  Unlike
many others, I am extremely lucky to get a second chance to spend more time with
my grandmother, to let her know how much I love her, and how she has amazingly
impacted my life.