Five Simple Words

So my mother requested that I post up some of my old writings from before my blogging days. So here goes. This was the first thing I ever wrote for my junior English class (the class where I learned more about writing than I ever thought humanly possible. Thank you Mrs. Snyder). And for those Webster clan members out there...yes this might bring tears. It does to me too. Bittersweet memories. :]

Five Simple Words

Everything appeared to be normal. I came home from dance to find my mom gone and my dad eating dinner. As soon as I walked through the door, I heard my father utter the words, “Get in the car. We’re going to Grandma Websters.” His voice sounded different, yet I couldn’t figure out why.

As we pulled up to my grandma’s house, cars filled the driveway. Suddenly, I knew why I was brought here, why my dad’s voice sounded strained. Nevertheless, I told myself I was wrong. There had to be another explanation for this unexpected family gathering. I walked into the house and made my way to the family room alongside my cousins. When everyone had arrived, my uncle Bill dialed a number on speakerphone.

“Hello?” uttered a familiar voice.

“Hi,” he replied. “The family’s all here.”

“Alright.”

I could distinctly make out the voice on the other end of the phone. Aunt Jan. Now I couldn’t deny the truth; I knew what was coming next.

“Aunt Jo passed away tonight.”

Five words; five simple words that would change my life. Jan went on to describe the events preceding her passing, but I heard no more. My mind was blank.

The kids were asked to leave the room. Silence. Nobody said a word, nobody even knew what to say; nothing could describe how we felt. Our summers would no longer hold the annual vacation to Orem. There would be no more late night games of Phase Ten, no more running around picking plums off the tree. We would never again hear her laugh, or rest in her gentle embrace. Our Aunt Jo was gone – taken from our lives. The cancer had gotten the best of her.

Memories flooded through my mind. Laying on the bed, helping her decide what to wear. Making toast for the entire family on Sunday morning. Watching Steel Magnolias with tissues in hand. It seemed unreal that I would never again experience these things with my aunt – the strongest woman I had ever known.

The next week was hectic. The car trip to Utah, the viewing, the funeral – it all meshed into one blurry memory. For the next few weeks, my friends were there for me, yet I was angry. My nine year old mind did not understand why she had to die so young.

Six years later, on the anniversary of her death, I found myself still angry, still questioning, still searching for a valid explanation. Then I got an idea that suddenly seemed so obvious. I realized then that I needed to pray about it. I got down on my knees and talked with my Father in Heaven. It was then that I got my answer, my tender mercy of the Lord. She had lived her life; she fulfilled her earthly mission. And she was still continuing her mission up in the spirit world. Now it was my turn to live life – and live it to the fullest.

So live life is what I did. I smiled constantly. I laughed more often. I danced with a passion I had never felt before. Soon, I realized the anger was no longer present. I thought of her with a smile, knowing that she was where she needed to be. And once again, everything appeared to be normal.

I don't have any pictures of Jo on my computer....but i'll try to get one up on here soon.

<3