Imagine sitting in a cold, dark room. The low lights of the hospital ceiling flicker and that stale scent that you've always hated is now what you're used to living with. Imagine knowing that you're completely helpless; no one can save you. Imagine seeing your whole family in tears as they wait around you knowing that death is inevitable for you. Imagine finding out you've had a beast ravaging your body for years and years without you knowing, and then finding out suddenly while you're on vacation, spending quality time with your family. I would like to hope that my grandmother didn't have any of these thoughts, but I know that she did. No matter how tough you are, when you're coming face to face with death there's no avoiding the unsettling fear that soon enough you will leave this earth and never come back. .
While I was growing up, I was extremely close with my family. I spent every single day with my grandparents and my aunts and my cousins. I still remember spending all day with my grandma and even though I knew that she was only watching because my mother begged her to, she always found a way to make me smile and have fun. She taught me that it's okay if you make mistakes sometimes. She also taught me some unimportant things like, "when you scratch behind a dog's ear in this spot, they'll fall right asleep", she would say while demonstrating. It sounds trivial, but for some reason dumb memories like this are the ones that stuck with me. .
Since we lived in New York, every single summer my family and I would fly out to Arizona for two weeks to escape the awful humidity that occurred on Long Island. We had done this for as long as I could remember, it was sort of like a routine. We would go to Sedona and see the red rocks, and we were often invited to dinner by the owner of the hotel we always stayed at. I always had amazing memories associated with Arizona because I loved being with my family and only them for a whole two weeks.