Early in September, 1997 I was given three months to live. I was 15 at the time and on an ordinary day hanging with friends on the stoop in front of my house, I passed out and was rushed to the hospital, where my parents were told that I suffered a severe heart attack. I woke up and found my family huddled in the corner. The doctors came in, treated me with their best bedside manner, then proceeded to tell me that I had a diseased heart and that if I did not get a transplant I would die.
My parents and sisters came in and cried. But I couldn't, I was still in shock. I heard my family's words, but could not seem to answer. I was going to die. I prayed every night for a miracle. For something to save me. I spent most of those three months in the hospital recuperating from the effects of my heart failure. I began to deteriorate. I lost 65 pounds (I was 187 when I was admitted on the first day at the hospital). I could not find the strength to even talk. I was dying and I knew it.
Late November, I was still alive, if you could call my state of being alive. I was depressed, Starving, and dying. I made my peace with God and was ready to die. One afternoon I was lying in my room when there was a knock on the door. A nurse came in and told me my grandfather was here to see me and that he was waiting outside. My grandfather lives in Puerto Rico and for him to travel all the way to New York City was a very big trip to make. His health was failing and life was close to an end, but he still decided to come see me. I did not answer the nurse, but she said she'd send him in.
A minute later, a voice behind me asked me to turn around. I slowly turned to see my grandfather sitting next to my bed. Tears gathered in my eyes and what he told me I can still recite today,because what he told me will stay with me forever. He told me, "Don't cry, my grandson. Soon it will all be over. You will get better. I know this for sure. I will die before you will." He smiled and told me about his "journey" to come and see me. He told me he waited a bit and then he decided to "fly with the angels" to see me. I asked him how he was doing and he told me that he felt better then any other time in his life. For a little over an hour we talked and he then rose from his chair, planted a kiss on my forehead and said, "I will see you soon, my lovely grandson. But not so soon. I'm off to have lunch with your grandmother."
I looked at him oddly because my grandmother was dead for some years. I asked him, "grandpa, grandma is dead, remember?" He looked at me and said, "yes to you, but not to me." I smiled and he kissed me again and left.
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