On July 17, 2000, my grandma was hospitalized in the ICU due to her battle with pancreatic cancer. I invited my husband to accompany me on a visit to see her, and he accepted.

During our route to the hospital, we drove by his parents’ residence — a small, two-story white house situated on a small hill. This particular feature had caught the attention of my father-in-law, ultimately leading them to relocate to the town after retiring from their farming lifestyle a few years ago.

As we drove past, his mother was backing out of the driveway. We both greeted her with a wave. It appeared that his father had a scheduled doctor’s appointment the following day. We presumed that she was stopping at the gas station and ATM to prepare for the appointment, which was a few hours away.

During our visit to the hospital, we had to wait for a bit as visitors were only allowed at specific times. In the waiting room, I noticed my aunt, who is a nurse, sitting by the window. Without addressing anyone in particular, she commented, “There must have been a serious accident. I can hear the ambulance approaching with its sirens. I hope everyone is alright.” It wasn’t too long until she added, “That collision must have been severe. The ER is being paged for a code blue.”

Next, we received a notification that would have a lasting impact on our lives. My spouse was paged to go to the emergency room. We exchanged glances and quickly made our way to the elevator. Initially, I feared that our children were involved in an accident as they were out driving. However, my husband revealed the true reason, “It’s my mom. Something has happened to her.” Despite my attempts to calm him down, he was certain that his mom was hurt.

The hallway fell silent as the elevator doors slid open, revealing my son and father-in-law standing in disbelief. My mother-in-law had suddenly collapsed at home, and in a matter of moments, she was gone. Our children had been present and had witnessed the tragic event. While our son remained stunned and in shock, our daughter was inconsolable.

After my husband called his brother, we both returned to the ER trauma room to see her. It felt surreal, as if time had stopped. A nurse then requested if I could contact my sister-in-law. Through tears, I explained that I wouldn’t be able to do so. I’m uncertain who made the call, but once she arrived at the hospital, my husband and I met her in the parking lot and informed her of the situation.

While it may have felt like the world had come to a halt for our family, everyone else around us continued on with their daily lives. My father-in-law was now adjusting to a life without his partner of more than half a century, my husband and his siblings were facing the prospect of life without their mother, and our children and other grandchildren were now facing a world without their beloved grandmother.

It was puzzling to see everyone going about their daily routines as if nothing had changed, while our lives were in disarray. Death remains an enigma, and its finality is undeniable. It’s astounding how quickly someone can go from being with us to being gone. We are left to navigate life without their physical presence, and their absence can never truly be replaced. The void they leave will always remain.

As you mourn, whatever that may be for you, we also have our own grief, which manifests as the repeated occurrence of 7:17 on the clocks every day. Nonetheless, we find comfort in knowing that she remains with us.