My grandmother was a woman who appreciated the simplest offerings of life, so when the day of her son’s birthday came, she was filled with rapture. Being a woman of faith, she disregarded any minor details that were not going as planned. She thought, being the compassionate and remarkable mother that she was, she might surprise her son and meet him after work. This was only a few blocks from her house so she dressed quickly and headed there. Her heart was filled with bliss as she thought about him and how lucky he had made her feel to have him as a son. Upon arrival she noticed how the water had turned into slippery ice sheets that created the feeling of winter. Russia was beautiful in winter. The night snow painted each morning white. People would come out of their houses to look at the beauty. Her eyes lit and projected a glow as she saw the truck pulling up across the street with her son. The truck was tremendous. It was one of those trucks that you were terrified of, even if you saw it a mile away you did not want to risk crossing the street.
He got out of the brute device carefully and closed the door. He immediately obtained a beam on his face when he saw his mother waiting for him. Without paying close attention to his steps, he slipped and landed right under the truck. My grandmother’s heart melted to the bottom of her stomach, being unable to move or speak, she battled inside with the pain. It had felt like everything was ripped out inside her and thrown onto the street for anyone to step on. In a matter of a few seconds, the automobile crushed her son into a memory. It had seemed like the disaster had happened in slow motion. Every detail stayed in my grandmother’s memory as if she had just seen it happen. The way his soft hair was blown by the wind, the way his mouth opened as he tried to speak. Most of all she remembers the way she felt when she realized he had gone. Her screams were louder than any one had ever heard. They were the screams of a mother who had just outlived her son. Hours after were followed by silence and withdrawal from the rest of the family. How could one get over this situation enough to continue to live? There is a way, as she told me. The way is to live through love. The mournful events of that day could never be forgotten but could be softened with the love and comfort of the people around her. I can not even imagine the misery that she must have felt and the courage she must have had to overcome it.
Each time I look into her eyes I can not help but smiling. A woman who has endured life’s most formidable events has the force and capability to make others smile. She is truly a hero that needs to be acclaimed by the world because there is no greater one. Throughout my entire life she has instructed me to always remember one thing: that this too shall pass. I am willing to deliver this message to others, so that they will not be completely unarmed when they face the cruelties of the world that has so much to offer and so much to take. I have lived by her words and have made them my bravery and adequacy to surmount any obstacle.
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