When it all changed

When It All Changed

You never know what your last words will be to someone and what their last words will be to you. When you start thinking about it, you wonder if the last thing you say will be something mundane like 'Nah, I don't want eggs for tea tonight' or something really moving like 'I love you'. You kind of imagine what you would like to say but you know in your mind that life never flows like that.

"Bye Grandma, see you on Monday, I'll be round for breakfast like usual" I called down the path as mum and I walked out the gate of their house. Taking my grandmother shopping was one of the highlights of my week. Every Friday evening, we went off to Tesco's and I'd be able to push her around the aisles in a wheelchair if she didn't feel up to walking round (sometimes she'd sit in the chair just to please me) or when she wasn't looking, I'd sneak the odd snack into her shopping trolley.

Grandma, mum and I were the closest family members of our family. We had a big family. There were my grandparents, then they had three kids, two boys and a girl. The eldest son had four children, the youngest son had had two children and my mum as the middle child just had me. Quite a big family but mum and I were basically the only members who really cared. We rang up during the week and always went to visit them. I always went round during the middle of the week quite a few times to see them which no other member of the family bothered to.

On the way home, mum and I started talking about our memories of when I was little staying round at their house. I used to stay round their house every day whilst mum was at work. It was like my second home. I loved every single moment and so did they. It also helped that I was the favourite grandchild.

I remembered that every day they would pick me up from school. I would remember the feeling of running into her arms as she waited near the gates. The warmth of her clothing and the tightness of her arms around me. We'd then walk hand in hand to the car where I'd see Grampy waiting to take us home. Their car was quite old and a dark blue style. It had three seats in the back and when I was really little, I'd climb into the car and sit right in the middle on the seat separator. That was my favourite seat because I could see everything then and I could be as tall as my Grampy.

Mum and I started laughing about our memories up until we got home.

Later that evening, we were sat watching TV when the phone rang. It was my aunt. She told us that Grandma had just had an accident and Grampy had rung an ambulance and them in a panic. I will never forget my mother's face on that day. It was a look of every bad emotion possible, fear, worry, panic, sadness. I hadn't heard the phone call, just her voice. I started worrying about what was happening. They told her that they were at the hospital now with her and she was doing ok. It looked like she had broken her hip but other than that she seemed fine. If anything, she was moaning at Grampy about how he had reacted to it all. We knew then that she would be fine. Grampy was back at the house so mum and I decided to head back there to make sure he was ok and had had something to eat.

It was late when we returned home so we just headed straight to bed.

The next morning, I woke to find mum wasn't there. Dad saw my look of worry and told me what had happened. Apparently during the night, Grandma had suddenly become a lot worse. They found out that her fall was due to a heart attack and during the middle of the night, she started to deteriorate. Mum and my uncles had gone there immediately to check in on her. So far, all seemed ok. I took the day off college to go visit her. What I saw, I could never unsee.

I was already panicking about seeing her just walking down the corridor towards her room. I knew mum would be there and to be totally honest, I was more worried about seeing her because I knew if she was crying then I would and I wouldn't be able to be strong for anyone.

The minute I saw her, I couldn't even recognise her. My grandmother was lay in the hospital bed looking so fragile and so small wrapped up in the quilt. She had tubes of oxygen through her nose and she had a drip next to her bed. Her heartbeat was constantly being read to make sure nothing happened to her. I didn't know how to react. Mum told me that she could still hear everything if I wanted to come over and say something to her. So I went to go sit on the chair next to the bed and took her hand in mine. Her hand was cold so I held it tighter. She didn't hold me back. I didn't know what to say to her. She wouldn't be able to say anything back to me and I wasn't sure whether she would truly hear and understand me. The only thing I thought of saying was, "Come on, Grandma, you have to pull through this! Easter is coming up and we were going Easter Egg shopping. And what about breakfast this week?" I started tearing up but I knew I shouldn't. One, it would upset mum and two, I didn't want Grandma to see me crying. What a stupid thing to say to her. I wish I'd have said something else. At the last second, I was pulling my hand away to go home when she squeezed my hand. It was only a little squeeze but it was something. I will never forget that.

Later that evening when we'd had tea, mum returned to the hospital and she stayed by her side all night. My uncles and the rest of the family had started arriving as well. The doctors and nurses had told us all to say what we had to because they weren't sure whether she would make it or not. Of course, nobody told me this at the time so I didn't realise what was happening.

The next day, I decided I wasn't going into college. Not when something like this was happening in my life. I bought my quilt downstairs and cuddled up with it. Everybody was out the house and it was just my dog and I watching a film. I was trying to cheer myself up and watch a funny film.

All of a sudden, I felt my heart just sink and I knew just from that what had happened. Grandma had gone.

About an hour later I had the phonecall.

I didn't know what to do with myself. I was all alone in the house. I started screaming, and crying and just wanted to throw something. I'd never felt so alone. In the end, I messaged my best friend who was in college at the moment and she ran out her class to come and speak to me.

Dad came home early and I couldn't even get up to see him. He came over and hugged me. Mum still wasn't home from the hospital. He said he was going down to go check on her and see if I wanted to go down there with him. I said no.

The worst thing about it all was that I was asked to go down with the rest of the family just before she passed to go and see her but I couldn't do it. I couldn't bare to see her in pain and know that she may not come out of there again.

I just couldn't go and see her like that. I almost couldn't believe it.

That night, the whole family came over to ours to talk. I couldn't bare even seeing them but I knew I had to be down there. My aunt then decided to start talking about funeral plans and that was it. It was too early to even think about it. I was still getting over how I'd never see her again and to hear her start to talk about that was horrific. I left the room and stayed in my bedroom all night. My cousin came up a few times to check on me and we had a cry together but nothing made me feel better. The only thing going through my mind was the thought of dying myself. The thought that if I died, I might get to see her again. I've never been in such a dark place as I was for those couple of months. I had never told anyone that I contemplated committing suicide so that I could see my Grandma again. The thought itself probably would have sent my mother over the edge. The months went on and I realised what a stupid idea it was and how I was lucky to still be alive and how lucky I was to still have my mother and to see her when she could never ever see hers again.

That night, I had a strange dream. In it, I was walking into my front room when I saw Grandma lay on our sofa with an oxygen mask on. I walked over to her and she took it off her face and said to me, "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that I won't be able to make you a dippy egg tomorrow". And then I woke up.

I couldn't believe it. In the morning I went downstairs to tell mum and dad but I didn't get the chance to.

Every single person I spoke to -- including dad -- told me to be strong and not mention anything about Grandma to mum. I couldn't cry in front of her. I couldn't appear to be weak. I couldn't mourn my own way. It's been just over a year now and still, most nights, I cry into my pillow so I won't be heard by anyone. I don't want mum to feel sad again but I'm still not sure how to react. Everyone assumes that I'm ok. But I'm not. I have no one to talk to about it. Nobody understands. Nobody understands that that one night was when it all changed.