Illegal Living.

I sat there and just watched her as she laid on the couch, legs posted up on my drunken aunt. I couldn’t help but notice how skinny she’s gotten since she started her chemo. She looked up at me and held her hand out. I could see it shaking, fragile and weak from old age. As I placed my hand into hers, she gripped it and began crying. My heart suddenly began to fill with pain. It was as if someone had stabbed me with a thousand knives all at once. It hurt so bad, the worst pain in my life. That was the second time I’d ever seen my grandmother cry. I could feel my eyes beginning to water up, but all I could hear was my dad’s voice playing in my head. “You’ve got to be strong for grandma. It only makes her feel worse when she sees you upset Breyan.” I just turned my head and bit the inside of my lip… that’s the only way I can stop myself from crying. My grandmother let go of my hand and began to wipe her eyes. I got up and walked to the bathroom as the tears ran down my face. I could hear my aunt trying to give my grandmother words of encouragement, but she was drunk, so the words weren’t coming out right. I wanted so badly to tell her to shut the hell up, but I have to respect my elders… drunk or not. As I walked back into the living room with tissues in my hand, all eyes were on me. I guess they could hear the echo of my weeps from the bathroom. I handed my grandmother the tissues to wipe her face and waited. My aunt went into the bathroom and started running the bath water. I reached my arms out, waiting for my grandmother to grab them. She pushed herself to the edge of the couch and wrapped her arms around mine. She let go then pushed herself off of the couch, arms and legs shaking. I could see her struggling, so I grabbed her. We slowly walked to the bathroom where my aunt was waiting to wash her. I’d never seen my grandmother this weak before. My father and I helped clean up the small apartment before we said our I love you’s and goodbye’s. On the car ride home I couldn’t help but think about my grandmother. The tears started up again. My father gave me a speech about life and how we have to deal with death. I barely heard anything he was saying, too many things were running through my mind. All I could think about was my grandmother, my best friend, my heart, my EVERYTHING… and how I’m losing her to cancer, and how life will be worthless once she’s gone. I guess he was waiting for a response, but I had nothing to say. Nothing anyone said mattered after what I had just witnessed.