There's been several major deaths in my life. Maybe two years ago, like six of them happened simultaneously ._.
My maternal great-grandmother - I didn't know her too well, but every time I went to her house she was sure to say "Oh, Becca, sweetie, come here and give me a hug". I loved her, even if she did smell like soap. I was there when she died, she was like 100, and they turned her over in bed to get a sheet out from under her. She took a gasp and died, it was real quick.
My paternal grandfather - My granddad and I weren't very close, but he was still my granddad. It wasn't the most horrible death to go through, but seeing my grandmother crying, and kissing him while he was in the casket made me absolutely bawl. They had been married for like, 60 years.
Judy from church - She was just great. Even if I don't believe in that religion, but Judy was like, the nicest lady I've met. Ever. She died from septic shock or something, because the arsebag that did her surgery accidentally opened an intestine or something. I don't know. But, yeah.
My mom's friend, Georgia - She died of cancer. I didn't know her very well, but mom constantly talked good things about her. I never actually met her, she and mom were long distance friends. She died of cancer, and mom cried. I'd never seen my mom cry before, so that was difficult for me as well.
My friend Derek Beauclaire - One of the hardest deaths for me. I was, and still am convinced that I killed him, in some odd way, and it still makes me cry sometimes. My neighbor Tammi called and was like "Some kid, Derek Chateau or something died, he went to Becca's school" and I said, in a very joking and sarcastic fashion, "Too bad it wasn't Derek Beauclaire."
I obviously didn't mean it, but we turned on the news ten minutes later and it
was him. I started bawling and screaming "I killed him! I'm a murderer!"
I know it's not physically possible, but for some reason I apply a sort of Schrodinger's Cat theory to it, like, it wouldn't have been him unless I had said it. Because there are many people named Derek at my school.
[ As for Schrodinger's Cat, it's this screwed up theory involving a cat in a box with poison. Long story short, the cat is both simultaneously
dead and alive at the same time, until it is observed. I don't get it either. ]
Derek's news article.
My best friend, Anthony Sobaski - By far the hardest death for me, ever. And probably ever will be, unless my mother dies. He had a few brain aneurysms, they couldn't fix them, and he had gone mostly into a coma. My mother told me that they were taking him off of his life support, and I started to absolutely bawl. She pulled me out of school that day.
I went to the wake, and the funeral, but I couldn't bring myself to go to the burial. I wish I had, now. I still go out to dinner with his family, his mother has practically adopted me. She cries almost every time she sees me, it's horrible.
These all happened in like a four month time span, mind you.
