My Journal
My First Journal
October 17th, 2016
One thing I can't get out of my head is what the nurse said when I asked how we can make my grandpa better. Her body language was casual, becoming caricature-ish with a slump and a wry, knowing smile. "Oh honey, he's not." She continued talking about how the quality of his life was declining, how he didn't have that many years left anyway, and on and on and I was sitting there with my world rocked and trying not to show it. He just went from being sick to being dead. The image of our future together vanished. There was just an empty space there now, and I could feel its permanence growing.
And the worst part was that he was still there, lying in the bed and it felt like I was seeing him in the past already.
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