My Angel--Myra

 It was May 20,2017, a weekend of my seventh grade year. I was around twelve years old and it was the day my competitive cheer coach got married and my family and I were invited to the wedding. I put on my brand new dress and sandals and jumped into my parents car. After we got there,we spent the whole night celebrating and laughing and all I felt was happiness. We came home and my family and I fell asleep quickly, in the morning I remember my brother waking me up softly. I was sleeping upstairs in the loft next to my best friend at the time that stayed the night after the wedding. He asked me to come downstairs, I instantly felt confused and a feeling almost like sorrow, but it was deeper than that. We make it halfway down the stairs and I see my Mom crying and being held by my Dad. I knew as soon as I saw her that my Grandpa had passed away. The weeks prior to the wedding he was severely sick. However, I assumed he would get better because he was the strongest man I knew. My Grandpa was a Christian man who did not believe in medicine, but rather put all his faith in God. He believed God would take him home when he was ready to go. Although, seeing my mom, I could not help but feel every negative emotion, pain, anger, sadness, and hopelessness. I went and sat by her and held her for what felt like hours. The weeks that followed were just a blur of hopeless emotions. 

The day of his funeral I felt an emptiness that never was filled. I sat in the pews of the church and listened to all the friends and family of my Grandpa say such beautiful words about  him. Soon, the service was over and only close family stayed for the closing of his beautiful mahogany coffin. I remember going in a line to say our last goodbyes. I had a mental battle inside my brain about whether to look at him or keep my eyes closed. I did not want to remember him that way, I did not want that to be the last image I had of my grandpa. Still, to this day, I feel guilty for not calling him the week I knew he was sick. I was selfish and scared to hear my once strong idol slowly becoming weak. However, I looked and kissed his cold forehead. I will forever miss his scratchy mustache, his long talks about his messages from God, and just being able to call him to pray. My Grandpa would never ask questions. He just asked what he was praying for. After closing the casket, we went to the cemetery and all watched him get lower into his everlasting peace. I felt a sense of relief knowing he will never be in pain again and knowing he will be next to me every step of my way. 

A couple months later, it was time for our annually Oregon camping trip. This was the first and last time I have seen all my family together in one place because even though we had this trip every year not everyone could always make it. Nobody missed it this year since it was now a trip to honor my Grandpa. When I had a moment, I finally asked my Grandma what happened the morning he passed, since I was older now. My grandma explained to me that he was getting out of bed with her help and felt weak and fell into her arms to the floor. She said he looked at her and said, “I'm ready to go home”. That sentence will forever be carved into my heart. Knowing my Grandpa was never scared to die but instead was ready for his life in heaven. This made me feel a sense of relief. From that moment on I will never be scared to live nor to die. My grandpa inspires me in ways I can not explain. I will forever look up to him as my idol and do my best for him. His passing forced me to feel pain I never experienced before and be  strong enough to get through it. Brian Douglas Rich shaped me into the woman I am today and I will forever be grateful for every second of my life that I was able to spend with him.