A message from above

A message from above I never thought I would be writing about a trip to the convenient  store, but this trip was like no other. It seemed like a typical  November day, two years ago, as I walked out of Walgreens. It was just  a month after my grandmother had passed away and I spent my days  running useless errands hoping to fill the void in my heart and  distract me from the pain.As I attempted to walk out of the store, I was frustrated by  everything that was going on around me which was a very common feeling  during this time. I was angry because I couldn’t even remember what I  went there to buy so I ended up spending over $20 on nonsense just to  waste time and money, both of which I didn’t have.I was mad and confused at everyone. Especially, the young girl  walking through the store holding her grandmother’s hand. The little  girl was begging her grandmother for ice cream just like I use to when  I was little, before I was old enough to know that there are bigger  problems than a lack of sugar . There is heartache and pain in this  world. Before I was old enough to understand that one day my  grandmother wouldn’t be here with me. “Here is $20 my sweetie,” the  woman said, “Keep it for later and well get you some Mr. Softy.” As I carried on, I remembered all of the times my cousins and I would  play outside of my grandma’s house, waiting patiently to hear the  sounds of the Mr. Softy truck. The minute we heard it, no matter how  far it may have been, we would run inside smothering my grandma with  hugs and kisses while begging for some money. No matter how many times  she would say, “Remember kids, no ice cream today,” everyday we would  ask and every time she would always end up giving each of us exactly  $20. Obviously, we all know that ice cream doesn’t cost this much, but  that was my grandma, always giving more than she ever had to give.Who knew that I, an 18 year old, could be jealous of a three-year-old  little girl wearing pink slippers and a Dor a the Explorer backpack,  but I was, because at the end of the day she had something I didn’t  have anymore. A grandmother by her side.I had to force myself to ignore the little girl who others kept  calling “cute” and “adorable” when I simply thought she was nothing  but obnoxious. She was just too happy for me and that was  unacceptable, at this time, in my world.I continued to the register to pay for my things, none of which I  even remembered picking until I placed them on the counter. It was  than that my anger quickly shifted from the little girl who seemed to  have everything to the cashier who didn’t have anything, not even my  change. She had to bring my things to another register which just felt  like a waste of time. Everything felt like a waste of my time. When  the cashier gave me my change I didn’t say thank you. I didn’t say  have a good day. I simply took my change and left.Feeling exhausted and hopeless, I began walking to my car. Every step  seemed draining, and every step was another to survive. As I looked up  into the sky I thought about how my grandmother had left me, and my  anger began to return. I was outraged by the loss, and my belief in  God was beginning to diminish. I couldn’t understand why these things  happened. So as I stood in a public parking lot a million questions  formed in my mind. Why did this happen to me? Aren’t we supposed to  get signs from the people that pass on? Why did I not feel her  presence anymore? Is there a heaven?Suddenly, a woman driving right by my side rolled down her window and  distracted my unanswered thoughts. “Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me,”  she said loudly. Thinking she was going to ask for my parking spot, I  simply pointed to my car. The thought of having to verbalize where my  car was seemed like too much to bear. “No, excuse me,” she said again.  At this point, I felt I had no choice but to see what this annoying  lady wanted. As I got closer though I was startl ed-was this my  grandmother’s nurse, Adu, who lived with her during her final months?  I soon realized that she wasn’t, although the resemblance was uncanny.  Then, I realized that this Adu look a like was searching for something  in her bag. Surprisingly, I was overcome by a sense a relief that lead  me to be patient the entire time the lady was searching. Others would  be nervous by a stranger reaching in their bag unanimously, but I  wasn’t. Under a clutter of makeup, money, pens, and other belongings,  she finally reached to the very bottom of her bag and handed me a  three page booklet. “It looks like you need this,” she said calmly  with a warm smile on her face.I looked down at the mysterious and obviously used pamphlet and on  the front cover in big bold letters read “What Hope for Dead Loved  Ones?”It took me only a few seconds to comprehend the exchange with this  woman, but by the time I looked up, she was gone.I walked slowly into my car gripping the tiny l ittle book that was  given to me with fear that it would fly away in the wind. I didn’t  know what it was exactly, but I knew that if my grandmother had  anything to do with this that I didn’t want to let it go.I felt a sense of relaxation as I opened the first page. It explained  how people pass on, but their spirit remains with us. This was the  first time since my grandma had passed that I felt her with me, just  like I had wanted. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but I did  know that I finally felt happiness from the surprising change in  events.I couldn’t, and still can’t, believe what had happened to me on that  day. I don’t remember the specific details that you usually hear about  like what the person was wearing, the time of day, or even the  weather, but it doesn’t matter. It was a random day in November when  my life turned back around and I began to feel hope again. It was  real. It was a miracle. And, I’ll remember it for the rest of my life.Story by visitor:  Jessica Correale