The nights were swift and lonely, as she dexterously tried to rob me of my heart. She had been in my life for too long, and I knew it was bound to come to this. I could hear her banging the keys on her piano. They were the notes to the song “Oh Danny Boy” which was appropriate for the time. The memories soon began to flash back into my head. We were on the porch, and she was reading me The Adventures of Winnie the Pooh. She always did remind me that the smallest things take up the most room in your heart, just like in the story. Even if she was trying to take my heart, I knew I would always love her no matter what. Soon I realized that I was not battling anymore; I had lost the fight, and she was gone. Clouds filled the sky as we watched the dark casket go into Our Lady of Peace. My brother Danny and I tried not to shed any tears, but the task was too much of a challenge for us, being four and five years old. We trudged into the room with our heads held low, and the service was ready to start. At the time, I could not understand how the priest could talk about Grandma Ruthie so positively during such terrible times. I soon lost interest in the service and made it my own …show more content…
I had lost my battle, and it was not their fault, just mine. Not knowing how to appropriately speak for my thoughts, I always responded by thanking the person for their consideration. By the time I had acquired a bowl of fruit salad, I was beginning to become exasperated by the conversations I was having. I did not know many of the people at the reception, and I had always been very shy growing up, so this was especially hard for me. By the evening, most of the guests had left and the only people that were still at the reception hall were family. To my surprise, no one seemed to be nearly as depressed as me, and I was, by far, one of the youngest ones