In the summer of 2021, my life completely turned. On my mom's side of the family, I am one of 49 grandkids. Every summer my cousins and I go up to our property in Alpine, Arizona for the Fourth of July. We ride our unicycles in a parade, go kayaking, watch the fireworks, etc. We've been going up there for five generations. My grandparents, however, due to health issues, hadn't been able to go up for a while. It had been hard not being up there with them, but I still enjoyed every minute of being up there. On one of the Sundays we were up there, my uncle got a call. My grandma had taken a fall back home. She had been going to get the newspaper and fell where she lay unconscious for hours before a neighbor finally spotted her and called the police. We all went back home and got the news that my grandma had a bit of amnesia. She could recognize some people, but not others. She was in a mindset that she was a young mom who had to care for her kids.

My mother was gone often from home, needing to take care of my grandma. We had to make meals for ourselves at home often. But the unexpected happened two months later. On September 9, 2021, a little after 11:00 a.m., my sweet grandpa committed suicide. He texted my mom shortly before that he was worried his life was affecting my grandma. The text didn't come through until after he passed. After having seizures and many other trials, my grandma passed away 40 days later on October 19. But no one expected my 16-year-old cousin to commit suicide less than a month later.

My family was stricken by grief. My mother felt like an orphan, and my aunt and uncle were without their son. And yet despite the pain, that time period brought us closer together as a family, and never had I ever needed to rely on my savior more than I did then. I grew closer to him, as did the rest of my family. As hard as that time was, blessings did come from it. Below is a poem I wrote after my grandpa died.

Free

He picked me up.

Not her.

He took me home.

Not her.

He was home from work.

Where was she?

Sitting down to eat a snack I sat in wonder.

The door opened and then shut.

My brother walked in not looking himself.

My sister frantically walked in.

“Why’d you have me turn off my phone?”

We sat down, my dad and three siblings.

He faced us.

“There’s no easy way to say this.”

Not a good way to start.

Questions ran through my head.

Did someone die?

Grammy? Grandpa?

“Papa took his own life.”

I couldn’t move.

I couldn’t talk.

I could only cry.

My face burned.

Lifeless expressions surrounded me.

No tears.

Shocked.

A gentle hand put my head on their chest.

My tears soaked their shirt.

Family flew in.

We all gathered together.

Aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews.

Tear-stained faces wherever you turned.

Red puffy eyes.

Hugs.

So.

Many.

Hugs.

The world already knew.

Meals were brought over but no one had an appetite.

Flowers were dropped off but no one focused on them.

Yet despite it all, I knew we were going to be okay.

Oh, my sweet Papa.

I miss you.

I love you.

I know that I’ll see you again.

While your body is resting your spirit is free.

Free from the mental burden you held for so many years.

Free from your bedridden days.

Until we meet again, be at peace.

Know that we’ll be okay.

For I know that you are too.

.