The Moment I Walked In

--This was originally written on September 7th 2010, when my Grandmother died. Since then, I've read it, and saw a few errors and didn't think it was good enough.--

The clock ticks, it's time.
Dressed in black clothes,
the ones for certain occasions.
With our heavy heads, we're feeling more bleak than ever.

From the moment I walked into the parlor and now,
the need to scream never left.
When I first heard the news that day after school,
I didn't dare let negativity get the best of me,
which that owns me now.
I wanted to cry,
I didn't know the real pain hadn't kicked in yet.

The room I last saw you in,
barely breathing, barely awake on a heavy dose,
masking the pain.
Slowly becoming lifeless; we all knew.
Tears in our eyes, we said our goodbyes,
you said "It'll be alright, it'll be fine in the end."
We all tried, so hard,
that was the last time.

I remember all the faces,
tear stained, empty, drained faces.
The box at the front of the room,
you could never stop looking at it.
The oak box,
the rich maroon colour captured your eyes.
Knowing someone whom you love is in there,
took a while to adjust.

The moment I walked in,
I saw a lot of relatives,
some who had shut me out, ignored my existence,
and some who greeted me with open arms.
She never shut me out, never denied.

At the foot of the bed, I stood.
I didn't want to think that you were going to leave,
I saw it in your eyes.

It's no wonder why.
I'm not sure I can forgive myself.
All those times when I said I'd visit,
come over for tea, all left standing.
No matter how much I struggle, he was my father, and when the last thing he said to me was "Never.."
You didn't let that get in the way,
you loved me he moment I walked in.