Death. What is death? To my seven-year-old mind, death was only a fantasy. It was what happened when Tweaty Bird was eaten, or when Roadrunner fell off a cliff.  Death was in Bible stories and far away places.  It was something that wasn’t talked about and wasn’t thought about. Why should I worry myself over something that didn’t happen to people around me?  I thought death could only happen to bad people. Unfortunately, I found that was not true.
***
“Flabby, flabby,” I said, jiggling my great grandma’s arm. She was quite old; in her
90’s. There was extra skin that hung off her arms that I called flabby.
We were at a racetrack, but I paid no attention to the stamping of hooves and the flinging of dirt right in front of me; I just wanted to spend time with my great grandma.
I talked with her about school, sports, and other common topics. Since I lived in California and she lived in Indiana, I didn’t get to see her often. The only time I was able to was when I visited my second cousins, which was only every other year. Little did I know that this would be the last time I would ever see my great grandma.
***
Back at my great grandma’s house, I sat on the couch, idly watching TV. When I heard her call me to the kitchen, I sprung off the couch and shot into the kitchen, my feet never touching the ground. I knew it was time for icecream. Icecream at her house was always the best. She took creamy vanilla and put loads of caramel, hot fudge, and whip cream on, adding a cherry or two to finish it off.
I scarfed my icecream down, never stopping to let it melt in my mouth or enjoy it fully. I took no time to savor my last icecream with my great grandma.
***
It was time to go. I spent only a week in Indiana, and only a day with my great grandma. But I thought that I would be back in a couple of years to see flabby once more. If only I had known…
Back at home, life went on as usual.  But then one day my mom announced she was taking a trip to Indiana to see her grandma. I was puzzled why she was going back again when our last visit was just a few months before, but I didn’t ask.
While I missed my mom, I had an enjoyable week. It was nice to have a few less rules. I don’t see how I could’ve enjoyed myself that week when someone I loved was slipping away.
Just a couple of weeks later, as I was taking out the recycling, my mom called me over. She said she had something she needed to talk to me about. Had she found out I was talking in class too much? Was I in trouble for something?
Tears formed in her eyes. “Tanner,” she said, “Great grandma died.” She put her hand on my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me.
I was stunned. What couldn’t happen happened. Never again would I see Flabby. I had never truly appreciated her icecream; her company. Why? Why did it happen? It wasn’t fair. Flabby was not Roadrunner falling off a cliff. She was not Selvester being hit with a hammer. So how could she die? She wasn’t a bad person. I wanted to go back in time and warn her. Could she have run away from death? Was there something I did that made her die? And who made her die? I had learned that God was loving, but I didn’t believe that now.
The dam was broken. Tears flooded out of my eyes; my body was consumed in the blackness of despair. I felt weak, and rested my head on my mom’s shoulder.