Jacob Fortner
Janel Spencer
WRT101S
2/6/2019
Love and Remorse
I will never forget the date of March 30th, 2011. That year I was a 17 years old senior at school. I was attending Pocono Mountain West High School in Swiftwater, Pennsylvania. I still remember it red brick wall exterior, white wall interior, and those polish, sleek hallway floors that met the carpet-based classrooms. It was a great senior year and I enjoyed every minute of it. The education, the teachers, and my friends. The fact I was graduating in two months made me eager, yet remorseful.
My family however, was another story. We have never really been close, especially at this point in our lives. I had mostly hung around my friends and their family. The only person I truly loved and cared for in that family was my grandmother, Emma May Fortner. She was the sweetest and most caring woman I knew. Emma lived in Seirra Vista, Arizona with my grandfather, so seeing them when I wanted to was impossible. I could only wait for family trips and visits to see her. Me being younger, truly didn’t appreciate our moments together as much as I wish, but I still did none the less.
I remember coming home March 29th, to see my dad’s truck in the driveway.. This was peculiar because he always got home from work hours after we got home from school. As I started walking up the wooden front porch step to my mustard brown house, I could slowly start to see my father sitting in the living room through our huge front windows. As I approached the door in opened it, I knew he was pained. He looked up and said “Pack your stuff for a couple weeks, we are going to visit grandma in Sierra Vista.
Right away, I felt a frog in my throat. My eyes teared as the overwhelming rush of panic came over. My grandmother had been in bad health recently and I knew exactly what he meant. I embraced my father as we exchanged tears. After composing myself, I took myself to my room, tears still streaming, packing whatever clothes I could find.
I had been on many trips to Arizona. My dad was in the military so I was flown often to Arizona to live with other relatives while he was deployed. But this trip felt the longest, as if the pilot took an indirect path just to kill the time. All I could think is “What happened to her? What will she look like when I see her? What will she say to me? What do I say to her?” I could feel the anxiety and tension building up.
After those long 5-6 hours on the plane, We touched down in Phoenix and were greeted by my aunt and uncle. They owned a house in Phoenix so they picked us up and let us stay the night. I honestly can’t remember that night well. I just remember my aunt’s huge two-story house and lovely dog, Saber. It was too large for just two of them, at least in my opinion. It felt more like a luxurious cave than a house.
The next day, my dad, sister, aunt, and I headed to Sierra Vista. It was about 2-2/5hour drive and we got to the hospital around 10a.m. Still unaware of the severity of the situation, I didn’t pay attention to the interactions we had with doctors or nurses. What I do remember is my first step inside that room.
I came in and the first thing I saw was my grandfather crying. He had a tough exterior, so I knew it had to be bad. I then look at the bed he was standing beside. It was my grandmother, at least a shell of her. I had come to realize they kept her alive artificially for us to say our good byes. Tears hit the floor before I could even fathom it.. I couldn’t believe this could happen to her. The only person I considered family was dying and there was nothing I could do about it. I loved her more than anything and I had to face the fact I will never see her again.
I walked up to her and grabbed held her hand. It was already cold and stiff. I held it to my hot, teary face. I remembered the times we had together, talking with my grandma in her nice comfy little blue home, the times she would take me to the Cove waterpark, at Disney Land and Lego Land during our family vacation, visiting Aunt Mary in California. I think my favorite memory is just how we use to watch tennis while I ate ice cream sandwiches and drank Coke out of the can. I didn’t like tennis then, but I did enjoy the time we spent together.
We all took turns saying our good byes. We informed the doctors and nurses that and they turned off the machine keeping her alive. We all stood around, just watching, it felt excruciating. Her breaths were heavy and getting shorter while her chest was struggling to rise. We all started to cry, my poor grandmother was leaving before my eyes. She finally stopped breathing and a silence fell over the room. It was the most heartbreaking silence I have endured. I looked up at the clock and it read 12:45p.m. I remember that time specifically, I will never forget for as long as I live.
We didn’t stay in the room much longer. I didn’t realize it at the moment, but later I realized my grandmother died in the very hospital I was born. I don’t know what to make of that. I think it’s a blessing on my part, but it’s so depressing to know she died where I started living.
I always have settle reminds of her. Whether they are songs, movies, or just memories. It was a hard life lesson to learn. I did learn appreciate the things in front of me. I didn’t know, being young, that she would go so soon. I didn’t know that our last trip to Disney Land would be the last time I would see her in good health. I didn’t know that would be the last time I would say goodbye. I think the worst part is getting holiday cards from my grandfather and not seeing my grandmother signature next to his. The cards always look so naked. They felt like incomplete works of art.
Jake's Jungle 