Hamilton 1

Lindsay Hamilton

Ms. Cox

English 101

19 September 2019

Lost In The World: A Pivotal Moment

Mary Elizabeth McCluskey. To you, that name means absolutely nothing, but, to me, that

name is my whole entire world. Mary was quite literally a ray of sunshine, ok maybe not

literally, but she had this radiating, vibrant aura. She instantly lifted the spirit of a room just by

saying some of the ridiculous things that she thought of. She was always making people keel

over from laughing so hard. She always knew how to take something bad, and turn it into

something that was tolerable. Mary was my grandmother. I was her seventeenth grandchild.

Nothing mattered more to her than family, and she always made sure that we knew just how

much she loved each and every one of us. She died. Like all of us do. But she was not supposed

to die, she was my grandma, she loved me, she was supposed to be with me forever. But a year

ago she died, without saying goodbye, she was gone.

My eyes slowly peeled open to see the rays of light, tinted with the floating pieces of

dust, touching every inch of my room. Wake up. My TV was on like it so often was. I have

grown so accustomed to the background noise that it was more soothing to me than stimulating.

Wake up. My favorite pink wooly blanket was entangled all around me, shielding me from the

harsh, biting cold of my air-conditioned room. “Wake up, Lindsay,” my mom stood at my side,

“I need to talk to you.” My dad hovered near her, looking over me with knotted eyebrows and

concern flowing through his dreary eyes. “Grandma is dead.” The words were heavy, each
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syllable sinking lower and lower, like the heavy feeling that crept into my being. I did not need

an explanation of what it means to be dead. I think that is what made it so hard for me. My lack

of naivety allowed me to grasp the event in full; I was not sheltered by the innocence of

childhood. I was a young adult, and the concept of death became more mature as I aged. It was

hard to understand; however, the concept of how someone I loved so deeply, so purely, could no

longer exist. How was that possible? How can she be gone? These are still questions that I am

trying to find the answers to. After my grandmother’s death, I spent a long time contemplating

ways to cope.

I can still feel the way she hugged me. She was short, only four foot eleven, and I quickly

towered over her through the years. She used to wrap both of her frail arms around mine, pinning

me down so I could not run away, and she would squeeze me until my eyes began to bulge out.

She would then take her cold hands, placed them on both of my cheeks, and squished everything

together until I looked like an English Bulldog. She would pull my head to one side, turning it

for me as if I was a baby, and she would place two big kisses on both of my squished cheeks.

She would look at me with her piercing blue eyes, “My littlest angel,” she would call me. When

you lose someone you love, memories come back to you in random bursts. It is as if life is

punishing you because you have the ability to hold onto these memories, but they bring so much

pain with them.

My grandmother was my soulmate. No matter the circumstances we got along, she got

along with everybody. Whenever I was feeling down, I knew that one second spent with my

grandmother would instantly lift my mood into the heavens. I would be okay, and that is
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something that I struggle with now that she is gone. The worst part about her passing was that it

was unexpected, also she lived all the way across the country. Ever since I moved to Nevada, my

grandmother an I have not talked much; however, we never lost the love that we had for one

another. My brain feels as if nothing has changed, that she is still alive and that I just haven't

talked to her in a while. I still see her sitting in her rocking chair next to the large window in her

bedroom. She is sitting there, waiting for me. Nothing is harder than letting go of someone who

you were not expecting to say goodbye too, especially if you didn't even get the chance to say

goodbye. My grandmother’s death has been hard for me, but it has taught me to enjoy life. I

absorbed the spirit that my grandma once had, and now I live life day by day, not worrying about

what the future has to throw at me. Most importantly she taught me how to find joy in the little

things in life, like the way someone hugs you. I miss her a lot, but I know she would be so proud

to see the young adult I evolved into, and she would be proud to see how I am working hard to

hold myself and my family together.