Break Time

I can't wait to go home for Thanksgiving. I've been counting down the days that I finally get to see my family and friends again. While I'm very excited because Thanksgiving is always a big thing in my family, it will also be a very sad time. I look forward to being in the company of my family but dread the conversation I know is going to arise.

I'll focus on the happy part first! Every year my school has a "homecoming" that we refer to as Harvest Fest. We consider this our homecoming because my school is very small and we don't have a football team, or any other sports, so we always designate the last day of classes before Thanksgiving break as Harvest Fest Day. On this day the each "family", our version of homerooms, partners up with another "cousin family" and competes in games to see who will eat first. The National Honor Society is in charge of running all the games; football, soccer, volleyball, and basketball. I was President of the NHS last year and we had a very successful Harvest Fest. All the games went smoothly, everyone cooperated which is sometimes a tough thing to get people to do. We served hot chocolate during the festivities and we collected a lot of canned goods to donate to the food bank. After all the games, the families are gathered in the auditorium, at this time a lot of alumni show up and fellowship with the rest of the student body. Then we tally up the scores and announce who eats first. As family names are called kids run down to the cafeteria to get the delicious food that awaits, which isn't always that good. We usually have turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes, string beans, mashed potatoes, and rolls prepared by the cafeteria. We also have an assortment of desserts brought in by the faculty and NHS members. After everyone has finished eating, and the alumni keep arriving, people hang out in the cafeteria, the parking lot, or most of the boys will go back to the gym and play football. This will be my first Harvest Fest experience as an RCHS alumni and I can't wait to see all my friends! I look forward to seeing my teachers too and the rest of the faculty that I was close with. After Harvest Fest my group of friends usually goes to IHOP to eat "real food" and then ride around the city looking for things to do.

Now for the not so exciting part of the break. Other than the fact that I'll be swamped with studying the whole break, I know I have to look forward to the dreaded conversation of my grandmother's death. My grandmother passed away this summer and this will be the first holiday without her. I can remember the exact moment my father told me my grandmother had died. My family was over my mother's best friend's house eating dinner; my mom, dad, grandfather, and me. My grandmother had been in a nursing home for a while and she wasn't doing well at all. I walked into the dinning room to fix my plate and I saw my mother in the kitchen and she was crying. I stood in the doorway and asked what was wrong. That's when my father said, "Grandma just passed". My jaw dropped and my plate almost fell out of my hand. I was shocked! Not because she was dead but because my immediate feeling was one of relief. My grandmother had been suffering for a very long time. I knew she was in pain and every night I prayed that God would put a stop to her suffering, but to allow her to stay here with us. I knew I couldn't have both but I just couldn't bear to see her the way she was. Every time I went to the nursing home I either stayed in the lobby or the car. The few times I did go in I wouldn't stay in her room very long. I was just so sad because my grandmother meant the world to me and was always one of the strongest and most influential women in my life. I didn't cry the night that a few of my family members gathered at my house to be with my mother and my grandfather, who had been living with us for the past 3 years or so. I sat in the living room with my parents, sister, and cousins and tried to make sure everyone else was ok, while I held all emotions back. I wondered why I hadn't cried, I felt mad at myself for not showing any emotion, even though I was dying inside. Little did I know, my emotions would come after everyone else's had pretty much simmered down. I remember the first time I saw her body at the funeral home, the tears started flowing and from then they never stopped. The next day was the wake. My mother held a special ceremony for two organizations that my grandmother had been a part of, the Alpha Kappa Alpha sorority Inc. and the Continental Society of Richmond. I rode with my mother to funeral home and sat in the hallway as the first ceremony went on. I could hear them all in the room singing and celebrating my grandmother's life and again I broke down. I cried throughout the whole entire wake, and every time a person came up to me it was water works all over again. I figured the next day at the funeral would be better. That day I felt fine as I got dressed to go to church. I could tell everyone had kind of accepted it and I thought I had too. We got to the church and as we all went in I felt the tears coming on once again, but I was able to hold them back. I did fine throughout the beginning of the funeral, the church was packed and I was sitting on the front row in between my older sister and older cousin. One of the deaconesses who was a good friend of my grandmother came up to pray. As she prayed she began to talk about some of the characteristics of my grandmother and as I reminisced I broke down so loudly that I had just about everyone's attention! My cousin held onto me tight as I cried the hardest I have ever cried before. I had my head buried in her chest for the rest of the funeral because I just couldn't stop crying. After the funeral was done I cried on the way to the burial site, at the burial site, and again on the way back to the church. When I got there I finally calmed down and I stopped crying. Still to this day I cry when I think about it because I know she would be proud of how much I accomplished that she missed out on.

I know when it comes time for Thanksgiving dinner the topic will come up because my grandmother used to bake pies and fix jello and yams, but this year that will be totally my duty. I hope I can prepare those foods deliciously in her honor. As always, here's a poem I wrote about my grandmother during the time that she lived in my home as her condition was getting worse.

 

As my finger ran up and down the blue life jacket, i watched her shake/
I had to keep looking away from her lifeless body, my eyes needed a break/
I looked around and i saw oprah lying on the floor
her easy spirits peeking out from beneath her, my eyes shoot to the door/
more water and ice from my slowly dying patient/
I jus wana go back to the days that now seem ancient/

I close my eyes as i try to reminise/
no time for daydreaming, cuz i gotta finish this/
i hate how she looks @ me as i feed her so i close my eyes/
jus gotta hurry, not much longer, im trying not to cry/
4 years ago i was told to be strong cuz they're breaking, be everyone elses spine/
but when will i get to let out what im feeling inside/
i gotta be the wall that supports them, o well/
but y does that mean i have to look death in face @ the gates of hell/
i tell him go back she aint ready so leave us be/
he looks @ me laughing, sees the bright lights and goes reluctantly/

Thats the light of the sun shinning in from outside/
i look @ her sadly as i stand @ her bedside/
you havent quite lived until you've stared death in the eyes/
she still aint dead yet, im kinda surprised/
so why cant she be the strong one cuz im dying inside/
dying as i watch her from the sideline/
shes still holdin on likes she waiting on something/
we already made history so mayb its Thanksgiving/
the last chance to see everyone together and bring joy to her heart/
a heart that works irregularly, beats are worlds apart/

Damn im still pressin the brakes/
green light, its time to accelerate/

I put the spoon in the bowl and slide it to the side to drain the milk out/
i slowly bring it up and wait for her to open her mouth/
its like feeding a baby, no problem right/
until she looks @ you through her blurred sight/
until she calls you by someones name you've never heard/
until you see the pain trapped in her eyes like a caged bird/
but the caged bird dont sing anymore/
my hand drops and again i scan the floor/
my eys travel up her frail, pale body/
shes shaking so hard, reminds me of Mr. Ali/

She says shes done she doesnt want anymore/

she swallows her pills, drinks the water, eats the ice, staring off into space/

 

tears running down my heart but not my face/

 

i gotta stay strong, not fair but gotta be the spine/

 

cant cry or show emotion though its buildin up inside/

So i quickly gather up her tray and walk out the door/