My parents went to the hospital early the next morning. Later Aunt Caroline and Uncle George came to the house, and I went with Caroline to the hospital while George stayed with Grandpa. The doctor told us to prepare ourselves, and I felt frozen inside. I wanted to scream, asking how you prepare yourself for something like this. Was it like bracing for a car accident? It seemed so crazy to say you could get ready for something like this.

We all took turns talking to Grandma. I sat outside her room wondering what to say to her for the final time. How did you sum up all those years in one moment? Aunt Caroline came out of the room and told me I could go in next. Standing up, my legs felt shaky. My anxiety spiked as I walked into her room. An unfamiliar, sickening sweet smell hit me. I had no clue what it was—it certainly wasn’t the antiseptic cleaner I was used to smelling in this place. It almost made me gag. Grandma looked waxy and lifeless on the bed. I had seen her sleeping many times, and this wasn’t anything like that peaceful dozing she did on the couch. This was a deep trance that made me look over at the monitors to see if she was still with us.

“Grandma,” I said, reaching for her hand. “We’re all praying for you, and I don’t want you to be scared. Please know that we’ll take care of Grandpa and do everything we can for him. I love you so much—” My voice broke, and the tears streamed down my face. Pretty soon I was crying so hard I began coughing and gagging. Aunt Caroline came into the room and put her arms around me.

“It’s okay, Em. She knows. There’s nothing more you need to say. She knows your heart.”

Aunt Caroline and I left, and we were just pulling in the driveway when Uncle George came out of the house.

“The hospice just called. They said she passed away,” he said.

I just stood there frozen in the driveway until Caroline pushed me back in the car.

I didn’t say anything on the ride to the hospice. Grandpa sat next to me, but he didn’t speak either. He just stared straight ahead, and I wondered if he was aware what was happening.

“Dad, are you okay?” my mom asked him.

“Mmm,” he said with no emotion. I saw my parents exchange a look. Maybe Grandpa was in shock. I squeezed his hand, and he nodded at me.

When we got to the hospital, my mom went in the room first. Dad took me aside.

“Em, wait with Grandpa while I go talk to the doctor. We’re worried what impact seeing your grandma will have on him right now,” he said.

Uncle George and Aunt Caroline walked over and asked why we weren’t in the room.

“Dad wants us to wait and get the all-clear from the doctor,” I said, glancing in Grandpa’s direction to let them know why without saying it out loud.

Uncle George rolled his eyes. “We are not going to coddle a grown adult,” he said, taking Grandpa’s arm.

“Wait, this could have serious—”

“Enough, Emme. He’s going in.”

I stood there shocked as my dad and the doctor walked up.

“Where’s your grandpa?” Dad asked.

“George insisted we stop coddling him.”

The doctor sighed. “Personally, I would not have subjected him to this because it could cause confusion.”

“I would have had better luck stopping a moving tank,” I said, feeling queasy.

“You don’t have to go in if you don’t want to,” Dad said as the doctor went in to talk to the family.

“It’s okay. Do you know what that weird smell in the room is?” I asked. “It was making me feel sick when I was here earlier.”

“You mean like a decay smell?”

My eyes widened, and I felt dizzy. I put my hand out and grabbed the doorframe.

“Oh, kid, sorry. Did not think that one through. Okay, let’s get you a chair.”

I sat down and took a deep breath. My head felt like it was swimming, and my chest felt tight.

Uncle George came out into the hall. “You guys coming? Hurry up,” he said, annoyed, and went back into the room without asking why I was sitting in a chair with my head almost in my lap.

“Em, you don’t have to go in,” Dad said.

“No, I need to make sure Grandpa’s okay,” I said, slowly getting up. “If I throw up though, three guesses on who I’m going to aim for.”

Dad nodded. “I wouldn’t blame you a bit. I’ll crack a window to get some air going.”

We walked in, and Grandma appeared like she was just sleeping, her mouth open. Caroline held her hand as a priest came in. Dad went to open a window and told my mom I wasn’t feeling well.

“Here, why don’t you sit down,” Mom said.

The priest came over to me.

“I’m so sorry for your loss. It’s hard to lose someone who is special to you,” he said, squeezing my hand. “The memories will hurt at first, but later will bring you joy. And your grandmother would want you to remember them with joy.”

My eyes filled up as I nodded. I wanted to say something back, but it was like words wouldn’t come out.

He walked over to Grandma’s bedside, and he must have said a prayer or something, but I didn’t hear a word. I sat there feeling like I was watching the whole thing on TV. This didn’t seem like real life. Aunt Caroline was staring at Grandma, and her eyes were filled with tears. My mom sat with her face scrunched in sadness and pain. Grandpa reached over to the nightstand and straightened the little prayer books, her rosary, and her comb. Then he picked up her tiny comb and held it to his heart, and I lost it. I shook and cried, and my mom squeezed my arm. I saw Dad walk Grandpa out of the room.

“We can go now,” Mom said.

“Did you want to say a final good-bye?” Aunt Caroline asked.

“I just want out of this room,” I said.

I took a deep breath as soon as I walked into the hallway, and the antiseptic smell filled my lungs. The priest gave me a hug.

“My grandpa hasn’t been doing well since Grandma got sick. Please pray for him,” I said.

“Of course, I will keep all of you in my prayers,” he said.

We came home, and even the house felt different. It was like the energy had changed, and it was so quiet you could hear the refrigerator hum. I went to my room and cried.

“Em, dinner’s ready. George made peanut butter sandwiches,” my dad said. “You coming?”

I came down and ate two sandwiches because I had forgotten to eat after school today. Mom asked me if I wanted to call someone, but I said I was going to bed.

My family went to meet with a funeral director the next morning. They asked if I wanted to go with them, but I wanted to be by myself. I needed to be alone, and I didn’t feel like I could cry in front of everybody. People kept calling the house to find out about the funeral. I didn’t know anything, so I stopped answering the phone and only picked up when I saw Margaux’s name on the home phone’s caller ID. Margaux was probably the least sympathetic person I knew, but she ended up being the right person to talk to. She knew I hadn’t been to a funeral before, and she wanted me to know what to expect at the funeral home and the church service.

“Do you want me to get your homework tomorrow?” she asked.

“Yeah, I guess. Thanks.”

Mom came home and asked if I had talked to Kylie and Brendon yet.

“I don’t feel like talking on the phone, but I told Margaux,” I said.

“This morning Grandpa cried while eating his cereal, but when we got to the funeral home, he kept asking why we were there,” she said.

“How was he when you told him?”

“First time, he said at least she wasn’t in pain anymore. Second time, he seemed shocked, and the third time he nodded like he just had forgotten. I don’t know, Em. Caroline wants her own doctor to evaluate him,” she said.

“Has she mentioned nursing homes?”

“No, but your uncle did. You’ll be happy to know she said Grandpa would stay with family unless there is a physical reason why we can’t take care of him. We’re going to work out the details in the days to come, but for now he’ll spend six weeks with them, and then come stay with us to give them a break.”

Grandpa came in the room then. “Emme, are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, Grandpa. I’m just sad.”

“Me, too. I miss Mom,” he said.

“Yeah, we all do,” my mother said. “Why don’t we go watch a movie for a little while.”

Grandpa put his hand on my shoulder. “Want me to make you an ice cream cone like old times?” he asked.

My eyes watered as I nodded. “I’d love that.”

Glancing over at my mom, I saw she had tears in her eyes, too. Even though I knew he might be asking me where Grandma was in an hour, I was going to hold onto this moment for a while.