Burying my heart.

February 8th 2014
I found myself standing in Baltimore Washington Hospital putting on my mask to walk through the ICU doors to see the very man that raised me, When I heard sirens “CODE BLUE 289”. Phew he’s in room 279…No, he’s in 289. I stood crying,begging,and pushing at big wooden doors that would not open. Let me in I pleaded. Someone must have heard me. I’m not sure, but they opened them for me. I ran down the hall to find doctors surrounding him, one on top doing chest compressions and others just standing looking hopeful. I fought my way in, in to him because he will pull through for me. He’s done this so many times this time will NOT be different. “Just don’t get in his way I heard a nurse say.” He needs me. He’ll hear me. I watched, I cried, and they worked and they worked and they worked some more. I hear my aunt praying. I see my grandmother praying. What is that 0 for on the monitor? “oh they have a slight pulse” I finally hear a nurse say. It died back out. Bring in the paddles. 1 shock… 2 shocks…I screamed…”look he shocked Himself…look he did it again! nothing. Time? 12… What do you mean I screamed! YOU BETTER SAVE HIM. SAVE HIM HE’s THE ONLY DADDY I GOT! We tried…he hadn’t had oxygen for 25 minutes a doctor said as I pushed her hand away. I sat in a corner and I cried and I heard my aunt saying through tears “we have to be strong for grandma…get up kierra…get up.” I cant. As they removed the tubes I held his hand…I told him I loved him and I laid there and cried. I just want to remember his hands, how big, how strong, how rough and soft they were. How do I tell my mom? How do I do this? I have to do this. I pulled myself together the best that I could. I waited for her to step off the elevator and tears filled my eyes. “NO” as she ran to the room. And all I could think was “I was right there. I was right there at the doors and they would not open.” perhaps that’s what is haunting me. perhaps that’s what is eating my soul alive on the inside. I heard her scream. I will never hear another scream like that. ever. I held her. I rubbed her head. and for a moment I was strong. Telling her everything I thought she needed to hear. Yet believing in nothing I was saying. Because truthfully, it’s not going to be alright… it will NEVER be alright. It will only be dealt with. You will never forget, the days will just move on. The sun will rise, the sun will set, dark will fall and it will haunt you each and every day. Those sirens, those doctors, that last moment.
February 15th, 2014
I sat in the funeral looking at his pictures on the obituary wondering why he was up there, wondering why am I here and whom am I here for? When it was my turn I stood there looking at him, crying…”wake up granddaddy, someone wake him up. I love you. I love you so much.” why am I burying my granddaddy? my daddy. The man that loved me before I ever loved myself. The man that loved me at first sight, more than the woman that birth me and the man that made me. The man that put diet soda in my bottle every night after work “she was suckin air”, he’d say. The man that sent money faithfully every month to ensure I was taken care of. “The man that never forgot my birthday.The man that would say “goin wit me little woman?” “I go wit u da.” The man that was no more than the 2nd car picking me up from school, leaving 30 minutes early to ensure he was there ON TIME! How do I do this? How do I just not get in there with him? I sat at the site looking at his picture as people picked flowers like vulutures from the flower I had made specifically for him. it was my last gift to him. It had to be special. This is it, this is my “see you later” And on that sunny, windy day I buried my grandfather along with a part of my heart, my soul, a part of me. They may as well had buried me too. I’m smiling i’m laughing and there are moments where I forget. But there is no “normalcy” in my life anymore. I will never be “normal” again. I will never be able to shut out the events of those days. I will forever be reminded. But I will live. I will acknowledge that god makes NO mistakes. That just as we live we all must die. That it was not “goodbye” as there is no such thing as “goodbye” it is only “see you later” (my granddaddy taught us that). I will acknowledge that I did not just live for him. But for so many others than myself. Knowing that I have yet to fulfill my journey here. But knowing that when my book is done and my time is up he will be waiting for me. He will greet me and I will hug him forever I will never have to remember his hands because I will hold them forever when that day comes. But for now I live as how he’d want me too and I remember him forever.

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