The Ending Of Life ...

     I walk in the door to see my cousin crying. In a small voice, she says, "He is in there." I hurriedly push off my white and black snow boots onto a coat hanger.
     I run down the narrow hall to my Pap's room. When I walk in, everyone is in tears, including my dad. In all the expressions my dad has made, he never made this one. It was, to me, a mixture of feelings. He was mad, worried, sad, and afraid. In this situation, it was the right expression to make.
     I move closer to the queen-sized bed and look over. There, lying on the tan sheets, unable to move, speak, or even blink, was my dear, old Pap-Pap.
     I remember sitting next to my Sitar and giving her a big hug. She looks at me with, eyes red, dreary, and full of tears. Her heart full of pain and sadness. I refuse to leave her side. I sit next to my Pap-Pap, all warm and frozen in one position.
     I listen to his slow breaths, in and out, in and out. His lips moving up and down, up and down, but unable to speak, only breathe. I held his hand in my palm and keep saying, "Come on, you can do it. You can fight it. You'll be all right, just keep breathing."
     His eyes were bold. They looked as if they were sparrow eyes trying to find its family, but still lost in the maze. My cousin and sister finally say their final words with my Pap. I scoot up to my Pap with his Valentine's Day Card from me in my hand. I read it aloud for everyone to hear it. I could tell he loved it by his eyes, sparkling in the dark.
     Then all of a sudden, his mouth stopped moving, his eyes were closed, and his mouth was gaped open like a child screaming for a toy.

     And that was the last time I ever saw my Pap-Pap again. It was THE ENDING OF LIFE ...


- CASSANDRA SKWERES
        "Grandchild"