On an extremely bitter, and very depressing Saturday, I had the second worst day of my life. The first being February 14th, the day I lost one of the most important people in my life, my grandfather. It was a bit of a shock, especially to a ten year old girl. He was here one minute and gone the next. At the time, that was very hard to process. Anyways, that Saturday (the second worst day of my life) after Valentine’s Day, was his funeral. The only thing that I can really truly remember is how much I cried. Tears streamed down my face constantly and I just couldn’t stop. I don’t even think I smiled once. At all.

We had driven in a long line of cars, each and every single one of us following the hearse. When we got to the burial site, I took a deep breath and slowly got out of the car. I took dad’s hand and intertwined it with my much smaller hand, as we walked closer and closer to his grave. When I looked up and saw where he would rest forever, I got a huge lump in my throat. Tears sprang to my eyes once more. I looked around and it seemed as though everyone looked exactly as I did, sad. The grass, that was covered in frost, crunched under our feet. The cool air nipped at my face, make my cheeks rosy and my lips dry.

The ceremony started and the tears started up again.  I walked up to the casket that was now closed forever and said what had been on my mind all day.

“Why did you leave me?” I asked, knowing no one would reply, and yet I still had hope that he would. “Will you be there for me, always?” “When will I see you again?” I asked and still no reply. “Goodbye,” I murmured before walking away and back to the comfort of my family, the tears flooding my eyes, once more.

“He’ll always listen Lex, he just can’t reply,” My dad whispered, leaning down to my height.

I nodded my head in understanding. The priest explained that it was now time to drop in the roses, before we lower the casket into the ground. But, as I walked back over to his grave with my brother on one side and my sister on the other, a rose in one of our hands, I realized something: This was a celebration. We were celebrating my grandfather’s life. I dropped my rose in and thought about my favorite moments with him. The time he came to watch me play soccer, teaching me how to swing a golf club, Christmases and Thanksgivings with him, all the memories that make me smile today. Anytime I’m sad, I just remember all the good times we had and I’m not so sad anymore.

Every decision I make today, I think about him. What he would say if he was there, how proud he would be of me and stuff like that. Sure, he left this Earth, but he hasn’t and won’t ever leave me. My grandfather would never leave me completely, because he will always be in my heart and that’s something that no one can take away from me.