Death is Never Timely, Nor Should it Ever Be

So, I think it's official at this point. My grandmother really seems to be dying. I'm really scared of it all to tell you guys the truth.

Everything's just so crazy right now—I don't know how to deal with it all. I love my grandmother more than anything, but when it's your time to move on...I guess it just is your time to move on.


If I've learned much in this life, there is no stopping death when he comes knocking on your door. It's best just to accept it and go onto a better place.


I pray for my grandmother to live a little longer, but I don't want her to suffer, and she's already lived a long life. It's a bad place to be.


This has been some woeful sighs from someone,
A Little Lonely


Finally, a poem that I always think of when death grows nearer and more chill:

Because I Could Not Stop For Death

By: Emily Dickinson

Because I could not stop for Death,

He kindly stopped for me;

The carriage held but just ourselves

And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,

And I had put away

My labour, and my leisure too,

For his civility.

We passed the school where children played,

Their lessons scarcely done;

We passed the fields of gazing grain,

We passed the setting sun.

We paused before a house that seemed

A swelling of the ground;

The roof was scarcely visible,

The cornice but a mound.

Since then 'tis centuries; but each

Feels shorter than the day

I first surmised the horses' heads

Were toward eternity.