When its time to go, its time to go.

I'm reminded every now and then of my grandmother whom I've lost a month back.  The countless memories I share with her are nothing short of the contents of an encyclopedia.

I never really understood when she decided it's time for her to go but one fine day she left. I cried by the bed stand in the hospital beside her lifeless body wrapped inside a blanket and spoke ' Ammama, get up! Ammama, wake up.' She never did.

I waited for her to wake up because she looked like she was sleeping. I knew she would wake up because she always did when I called to her. But this time she didn't. The words heart broken, despair, sadness wasn't exactly the right choice of words to describe what I felt.

What I felt was rather this- where is my ammama now. She isn't getting up when I ask her to. Where on earth is she? Did she take an immediate staircase to heaven? Or is she still here with me in spirit watching me or she is just gone and that's it.

Christianity has thought me to believe there is life after death. But still, now, where is she was what I wanted to know.

She simply left and I'm not quite sure when she decided it was time. Probably her old and aging body gave up on her? Or probably she gave up on her old and aging body? I wish I knew. But I never will.

When its time to go, you go. Never knowing why, when, how. Leaving behind questions for the ones you've left behind. When its time to go, you most certainly go.