The End of Emotions
By Alaysia Griffin
On a sunny, dry and windy day in late fall, I was sitting on my couch with my great grandmother. We watched TV that afternoon, waiting for the call. I was biting my nails, because I didn’t know what was happening beyond the four walls of my own home. I walked into the living room to see what was going on.
“Hey granny,” I said , “Have you heard from the hospital?”
Granny looked at me with tears in her eyes. In that moment, I knew what happened. I started to ask anyway, but the tears, and the lump in my throat, stopped me. I finally built up the courage.
“Granny,” I cried, “But what happened?”
Of course, I already knew the answer but I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t going crazy.
“It’s your uncle,” she muttered. She wouldn’t look at me.
“He didn’t make it.”
That’s when I felt my heart sink. I burst into tears and stoop up, asking myself, my brain, what should I do. What could I do. What do I do. I ran into the kitchen and grabbed a knife. The biggest one I could find!
I held it up, and —
But my grandmother was there. She took the knife from me, with delicate hands. “No,” she whispered. “No. Alaysia, this is not your fault. This pain you are feeling happens to everyone.”
My grandmother called me Loo then. That was the nickname she gave me since I was little. Because she said that, and because her hands were so gentle, I let my guard down. I knew I couldn’t stop people from dying anyway.
A week later, we had my uncle’s funeral. It was nice, but it was also very strange. I had never been to a funeral home before. It smelled funny. When I saw my uncle, lying there in the casket, all I could think was, “He’s in a better place now.”
Years have passed, and I still think about him. I also sometimes think about what Granny said. “This pain you are feeling,” and how it happens to everyone. I miss my uncle, but not the pain. And I am glad he truly is in a better place.