This essay is about the saddest day of me life, when my Grandfather figure, my Great Uncle died. Since I was little I never really had a grandfather, but my Nana's brother filled that gap for me. Before his death and cause of it he was a very healthy man. Except for a few reasons, he had been in a car accident and had lost an ear. I found out later that he had cancer some years earlier when the accident happened.
A day or two after the begging of March in 2003 my Great Uncle, R.L., called us, family, to says that brother, my grandfather figure, had been put in the hospital for, to him, unknown reasons. My mother and grandmother rushed to Cleburne to see him. When they came home that night I couldn't believe what they said he looked like. In their words he was pale, near cold, tubes running threw him putting fluids in to him.
It was the first I had ever felt so numb, like my whole world was crashing down. I don't remember much of how my time was spent that day, I could only grasp what my mother told me. The next day I went with them to see him. He seamed different than what they told me. The tubes were there, but he still had that light to him. I called up all of my courage and asked the doctors what happened.
They told me that he fainted and hit his head badly. I really think they just told me that to make me happy truthfully. I asked them "then why does my Uncle Buck have all those tubes in him?" they tolled me that because he would not get treated for his cancer years prior to that time it caused complications for him.
I walked back in to his hospital room when he, my Uncle Buck, was telling us what he could remember, which wasn't much. He said he walked into his house from his walk around the block. He felt pain in his heart, but not the kind associated with a heart attack. He walked to his room, and that was all he remembered. R.L., told us that he found him lying on the ground, unconscious.
A week of these visits and he was looking worse. I barely saw any of his old self in him. My mother and grandmother were told that if he did not change they could do nothing for him there. They were crying hard when they came home to tell us, the rest of my family and myself, what the doctors said about him.
I was shocked beyond belief; they, the doctors, said that he had no chance to live to the next year. It felt really bad, having to lose the one person who seamed to understand me. My mind felt like it was sunk in the Arctic Ocean, numbed to the core. For three days I only left my room to go to the bath. I felt dead inside, asking the Christian god why he let him suffer like that, in so much pain, every night I cried myself to sleep.
By the end of that week my mother told me they sent him to a hospice, a place where those that are close to death would go. My brother told me he was to stubborn to leave us, and I really believed him. I was told by my sis that the doctors knew what ailed him, she nor the rest of my family would tell me though.
I don't really know how long he was there. To me it seamed like forever. I stopped going to see him, and he was in a lot of pain; not even the medicines would help. It scared me to see him not really able to move, sleeping most of the time. It made me question everything I was taught, my family's religion, my life, why I could not his take the pain away. They, my family, keep telling me that he didn't want to us soon. I really wish they could've seen how I really felt about him dying.
Sometime after he was entered, my family got a call from R.L. he told us he died in his sleep. All the women in my family cried hard, even me. For my grandmother's sake I did not let them see me cry and gave her comfort.
Much of my big family was there, at the funeral home to see him. It scared me so much that it hurt. All these people in one place, they were not there for him in the end, I wanted to know why they cared now. The next day we laid him to rest. My oldest nephew was there with my brother, mother, grandmother, and myself. It was so hard for me not to cry.
His death triggered almost everything I have life to this day. For that and all my memories I thank and love him.
Well I thought about putting this up for a while, it's an essay I wrote for my English class. Review if you want.