I've been thinking about you, Nana.
I hope you know I love you,
and that I look into the sky
and see the brightest star,
knowing it is you
watching over me.
Papa is distraught.
I see it in his eyes
his face
and his actions.
I hope you know how much he loves you.
He asks me if I still remember you.
How could I forget?
Your smile,
your laugh,
how you always smelled of gardenias,
how you always tended to your gardenias to help them grow.
Papa takes care of them now.
That Monday I left,
I was so excited to go to science camp with my friends,
when I should've stayed where I belonged: with you.
So what if you were in a coma?
You could've still heard me if I spoke to you.
But no, I had to go, and that Wednesday,
you died.
I knew it happened the moment Mom and Dad
came to pick me up.
I saw it, I knew,
and a part of me died inside.
I heard you on the phone with that lady,
because for some reason the phone in the room I was in picked up,
onto speakerphone.
I heard you say you were afraid to die.
Your voice shook,
I nearly cried,
until Papa came in,
realizing the phone was on,
and whisked it away.
He didn't want us to see him cry,
because he loved you so.
You loved him too, but it was time
for you to say goodbye.
I know you're in a better place now,
and you are happy
in the heavens
with God.
I love you, Nana.
I just wanted you to know.
mutantstitchtiger27 Community Member 
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Community Member