So many people believe in a god or gods who will determine their afterlife.

I had a friend who believed every dead person would rise when Jesus returns.

“How will we all fit? What’ll we eat?”

“There will be plenty for everyone.”

Then the one who believes in reincarnation:

“I met you in this life, and I’ll meet you again.”

That’s what I said as I kissed her forehead before walking away from the last time.

“I love you, Gram, I’ll see you again. I’ll see you again.”

Truth is, I’ll believe in anything not to have to say goodbye.

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My grandmother passed away this morning, with my mom and dad by her side.

I spent her last twenty-four hours with her, and we proved mom’s theory that she was holding on because we were there and would pass when she was alone.

That almost happened.

My parents arrived into her room, my mom said:

“We’re here mom, I love you,” and two breaths later, she was gone.

Two. Breaths. Later.

I am glad that this is the way it happened.

I am glad I wasn’t there to witness it, and I guess Gram didn’t want us witnessing it, either. She knew how much it would hurt us. But maybe she knew that mom wanted so badly to be with her, she waited for her, and then finally let go.

She was 95 and a half years old. This was a blessing after years of her being bed-bound, in physical and emotional pain.

I love her with all of my heart, and I’ll miss her every day until we meet again.

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