How I started to hate the 1st may

“In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on.”
― Robert Frost

When I was 12 I had to learn the hard way that the people I love won’t be there forever.

It was the 1st May 2003 when it happened. A normal day like always, that’s what I thought, well normal not exactly, because for once there was something going on in this little village, where I used to live. It’s really small only 350 people live there and everyone knows everyone. The buses don’t drive much and you mostly go by car. So this was the biggest event, besides the big fire the night before.
It was only 5 minutes from my home right next to the playground by the fire department.

So I went there and jumped on the bouncy castle. I had fun. I played with this girl, painted on the ground. When I think back I was happy. I don’t really had any problems. Not like now, where I have to think how I have to manage my money to survive. Or where I want to go with my life. I just lived like I wanted and didn’t care. I do now too, but it’s defiantly not that free spirit anymore like before. So at 3pm there was a mini playback show I would always watch and wish I could do this too, but never did. So afterwards I went home and my father told me to get some Bratwurst and I did like I’d been told.

I love my grandmother she would always have time for me and cuddle me.
She could knit. She would smile, when I came into the kitchen and say: “You’ll sleep your life away if you sleep till midday.”

Than I came back with the food and gave her, her medicine she had to take and something didn’t felt right. So I told my father and he said that she didn’t want him to call the ambulance. I went back to her and talked to her. I think at that moment she couldn’t recognize me anymore. So I screamed at her and yelled to my father he had to call the ambulance. He wanted to listen to his mother I think because he was against it. Well that’s the part I don’t remember well. So I think my uncle and mother came in and someone had called the ambulance by now. I was obsessed with talking to my grandmother. Telling her not to leave me behind and to come back and to talk with me. I remember how my mother brought me upstairs in the livingroom and told me not to leave until she would come up.

Not to know what was happening and see how slow the ambulance men were made me angry and  sad  at the same time. I had money for one last sms on my mobile and I wrote my cousin that our grandmother is lying on her deathbed. I think she didn’t read it because she heart the siren and I saw her at the end of the street falling to her knees. She knew something had happened.

My mother came up and had that look in her eyes telling me something I didn’t want to hear. She told me anyway and I started crying. I can’t remember how I went downstairs and I met with my cousin and my aunt. But I remember that the tree of us went into the garden which is behind our house.  We where there for a while I don’t know how long it was. My aunt said it isn’t good for us to see the coffin.
To be honest, I saw the coffin. How they put it in the car. My aunt saw me looking and took me away.

I didn’t want to go to school afterwards. I skipped school for almost 2 weeks. People started to pity me. I hated it the most. My grandmother died and I wanted to be alone and to forget it but they wouldn’t let me. A long time after that I stared to be afraid to lose someone dear to me again so I became really devoted to my best friend. She was one of the view who smiled at me and I LOVED it. It was warm and friendly and there was no pity or sadness.

We are still best friends and try to keep in contact… although it isn’t easy!

Rin Yamashita _〆(。。)


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