I wasn't sure I wanted to write a blog about this, because I'm not really sure how I feel, or if it's something I really think I want other people to hear about, but I think that maybe, it's best for me to talk about an event that shaped so much of who I am.
My grandpa died 7 years ago today - and today, I keep getting this weird feeling, like all of my senses are on fire. Everywhere I go, I keep smelling the weird, strong perfumey smell of Duggan's from the last time I saw his face. I don't even know if I'm hallucinating or not.
I remember the day Ampa died, he took me to McDonald's that morning to go buy breakfast - we went through the drive thru twice because they got it wrong.
Amma and I were cleaning in our room, and I was trying to clean the shower with Oxi-Clean - I was so proud of myself, because I was actually trying to clean. There was a thud, and Amma knocked on the bathroom door to check if I'd fallen down or something.
There's a section in my memory that's pretty blurry - the next thing I remember is walking into Ampa's room and seeing him on the ground, not moving. He wasn't done changing from his home clothes to his work clothes, he'd only changed his socks. I remember having to be the one to call 911, and trying to stay calm, because Amma had gone outside to try and get help from the neighbors. I stayed there next to Ampa until they came - I was alone with him in that room, and it felt like forever. I remember hiding behind the washing machine and crying, and all these other snapshots of that day.
It's all sort of slipping away, like water through my fingers. I don't think I ever completely learned to count on anyone since that day, I don't think I ever truly believed that anyone was around to stay.
I had to grow up that day, whether I wanted to or not, and now, I sort of feel like I don't even know what someone my age is supposed to be or do or feel.
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