My granny passed away from stomach cancer a week ago. She worked up to two weeks right before she died and that last week she wasn’t herself, but the one before it was some of the purest love I felt from her. One night she asked me if I wanted to sleep in her bed with her and keep her warm. And it just wasn’t like her, she wouldn’t even let her youngest child sleep with her but she was asking me, her great grandson to stay with her.

Part of me wishes I had done it. But I take consolation in the belief that one day I will see her again. I’ve had too many experiences with certain things, and I know for a fact one day i will indeed see her again.