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When I was a child I was terrified of death. When I was a teenager I was intrigued by it. As a father I’m once again terrified of it. When I was 18 and deciding what I wanted to do with my life (I’m 31 now and still have no real answer to that question) I was set on attending a local university, getting a degree in an art field and then going to Mortuary School in the next state over...death had other plans for me though, ironic, isn’t it? I attended college for two years, going through the motions in class and trying to pick up girls, then my grandmother was diagnosed with a rapid spreading form of cancer. It was in her lungs, her spine and her brain, she went from walking on her own with a walker at Christmas to being unable to move without being carried by spring. Death was simply the physical body being separated from as the spirit moved on to the unknown, whether it was heaven, hell or rebirth, that person was transcending their current existence and moving towards their next...whatever. I remember sitting at my grandparents house, at the edge of the bed, watching as my grandmother gasped for air. Her eyes were closed, she laid on the right side of the bed, letting out loud moans and gasps. It was the sound of agony. Different family members would enter and exit the room, but not me, I stayed plastered to that bed, not out of morbid curiosity but rather out of respect. I felt I owed it to my grandmother and myself. I’d help her out if bed in the middle of the night and carry her to the bathroom or living room if she couldn’t sleep. We’d watch reruns of Walker, Texas Ranger and I’d make jokes to make her laugh, I stuck by her in the hardest point in her life up until that bed, so why wouldn’t I have seen it through. Aside from the constant rotation of bodies that entered and exited it was just her and I. When people would walk in they would stare at her closed eyes, they would talk to her, then ask if I was ok or rub my back or give me a hug and then leave. This went on for hours, then one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen happened. My grandmother’s sister, my Aunt Carol, had drove 3 hours to my grandfathers house to be with us and to see her sister one last time. Her and my Uncle Joe entered the house and my aunt ran in to the bedroom, sitting next to my grandmother and grabbing her hand, she muttered three words, “I’m here Lu.” At that moment my grandmother inhaled, exhaled and was met with a moment of absolute silence, before the room was engulfed in a roar of sobs...I however remeained free from tears. I stared as life exited my grandmother, I wasn’t sad, I wasn’t happy, I was grateful and relifed. I watched suffering for months, I saw an already brave woman lose her fear in the inevitable. I was proud to have been able to call her my grandmother and to have helped her in those times where she needed me the most. After she had passed, everyone had exited the room, my grandfather went to his chair on the porch and my mother smoked her first cigarette in years. I stayed in the room, holding her hand and just sitting, the only difference was the sound of suffering had dissipated. I sat there, in shock, for lack of a better word. Filled with disbelief and denial. How? How could it end that abruptly, no goodbye or last wish of good health and love. It was just...nothing. That was the first time I cried that day. I remember kissing her cheek and telling her that I hoped I had made her proud. I stood up and opened the door, to see every person from my family outside of it, waiting to take me in to their embrace. My ex girlfriend told me that listening to me cry from the other side of that door was the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life, she described the sound as compairable to hearing Superman cry. What followed was a week long celebration and calling hours that shut down a road due to how long the line was with people wanting to pay their condolences. The sun was bright, not hot, just bright. I was sitting at an empty picnic table under an empty pavilion. The sand outside of the cool cement of the pavilion shimmered elegantly under the bright blue sky as the water painted a deep shade across it from the tide. I could hear the waves crash in the distance, the birds chirping, they sounded more alive than any other time I’d heard them. It was morning, though the time was neither known nor relevant. I watched as a figure, outlined in the gold glow of the sun made their way towards me. As she got closer her smile opened, out shining the light piercing through the sky. Her feet patted silently against the concrete, there was no walker, there was no one carrying her. My grandmother sat down across from me, she kept her body turned, knowing that this wasn’t a permanent stay, but rather a quick visit. She asked how I was holding up, to which I told her I was hanging in there. She told me to watch over my grandpa and take care of him. I told her that I love her and she smiled, and expressed that she loved me too, she told me to tell everyone she misses them and that she was doing much better now. After those words she stood up and walked back through the large opening in the pavilions side, as she did my family rushed in and my mother asked who I was talking to. It was then that I woke up, having felt a way I never had before. I told my grandfather about that dream And he grabbed me and pulled me in to his body as hard as he could while sobbing. I’d seen my grandmother through to the end and was privleaged enough to get to see her even afterwards. I’ve experienced the other side of life twice, that was the first time. It’s not a place I’m ready to stay in any time soon, but it was a place of absolute beauty and peace.