The Death Of Death - Original Writing

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Death itself is scary, unfamiliar, and sad, but I feel that the emotions associated with death and the resulting absence it leaves in people 's lives are the saddest parts, not the act of passing itself. For me, it has always been the realization that this person has vanished from my life forever and the emptiness, however small, that they leave behind, that brings true sadness and fear. Even the smallest of presences in life can seem unfathomably large once it 's gone. My great grandmother lived in Los Angeles, and I saw her maybe once or twice a year. She was old, she had her share of health issues, and I always had a much more difficult time time connecting with her than with my other relatives. One morning my father met me and my brother in the hallway with a serious look on his face. My feet he been propped up against the wall in a seven-year-old 's attempt to relax and escape the mid-July heat. "Alicia?" he breathed, his voice low and quiet. "Eric?" Sensing that he had something to tell us, I pulled my feet down and sat criss-crossed on the floor, fully prepared for whatever conversation was so imperative it had to take place in a hallway. He explained to us what a stroke was, that our great grandmother had suffered one, and that she had died the previous night. "Oh," I murmured, staring at my hands. My dad rubbed my back, then Eric 's, as a sign of sympathy. "I 'll leave you both alone," he said. Eric pulled himself up, cautiously making his way to his bedroom as

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