Excerpt: Dear John

Dear John,

She died. She’s dead. I will never get to see her again. I barely cried. I was sitting at lunch when my history teacher from last year came up to me and told me I had to go to the assistant principal’s office. I knew something was up. When I got there, Abby was already there along with my guidance counselor. She said they got news about Momo. That’s when I knew. They wouldn’t have called us up there if everything was fine and she pulled through. She was dead. I knew it before my parents even walked in the room. Seeing my mom’s face confirmed it. I didn’t even need to hear the words. I wish I hadn’t. I just sat in my, barely tearing up. My dad sternly told me and Abby to stand up and hug them. That made me mad. He can’t order me around. I didn’t want to hug them. I want to stand. I just wanted to stay sitting. They told us we leaving school for the rest of the day. I didn’t want to. I had to go back down to the cafeteria and get my stuff. I didn’t want to tell my friends what happened. I just said I wouldn’t be back the rest of the day. As we were leaving the building I felt a breeze blowing on my hair and face, and I knew it was her. That’s the thing, I guess that’s why I’m not that sad. Now that she’s dead she’s all around me, all the time. She’s not restricted to South Carolina, she’s everywhere and she’s always with me. She’s the gentle breeze, John, my grandmother is the gentle breeze.