My dad and I caught the first flight to Knin, Croatia the next morning. Those first couple of days, since we found out my grandmother had passed, haunted me. We spent all of the nights in Croatia in my grandmother’s house that she once cherished and called home, but without her there it meant nothing to me. These days haunted me because every night I could hear my father weeping down the hall and his pain brought uncontrollable tears to my own eyes. Every day someone new would give me their sincere apologizes. I was reminded of my loss every minute of the day.

In this time nothing seemed to be important. Not my expensive clothes, or friends back home, or what kind of grades I would get when next semester came. She was the one person I came to when I had well and bad news. She was always there for me, but now she never will be again.

On the dark day of her funeral, I had run out of tears. I just sat there like a lump. I’d never seen so many people cry in one place, like I did on that day, in that church. Her body lay in a shut, oak wood coffin, decorated with Orchids and Daisies (her favorites.) It stood on the altar as different people spoke. They preached of their memories with her, what a grand person she was, and how she loved life as it was. I didn’t fancy these people. They didn’t know my grandmother like I did… her laugh, her smile, her sweet songs she would sing when we went on walks.

It was rage and abashment that I felt, at these speakers, at the world, most of all at God. How could he take her sweet, innocent life. Also, leaving sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, and grand kids to suffer?

It didn’t take long for me to realize that she was in a better place. That all of her physical pains that came with age were gone. I also realized that just becausee she wasn’t physically there, she will forever hold a place in my heart. I will never forget my beautiful grandmother.