II in The Beginning

I just learned that my friend’s grandmother passed away earlier in the day. I gave him my condolences and told him that if he ever needed to talk, I was here. I started to think back about my own grandmother, how it has been nearly half of my life that neither one of the my grandparents were no longer alive. It’s a strange thing to think about and it leaves me feeling numb. To have been just a kid when they passed, it feels as though they never existed in the first place. As the years go by, their voices disappear, our conversations I don’t recall, their hugs and kisses I no longer feel on my skin. If I’m lucky, an occasional scent will come my way or an old song will take me back to those sacred moments.

 I hold a lot of regret in myself, about all the conversations I could of had with them. All the "Love You's", all the questions about their life. All the times I could of stopped and watched TV with them just a little longer or gone with them to the corner store. I beat myself up for it when I think about it.

The first time I ever stepped foot inside a church, was for my grandfather's funeral. I remember just how huge everything seemed to me. Everything look glorious but at the same time, extremely cold and stripped of life. I would like to believe that they're out there somewhere. Out somewhere to some place that our minds can't even begin to comprehend, some place that I will be united with them someday.

 If no place exists, if nothing exists after, then life was all for naught.