As we move into the holiday season, I am starting to come to grips with the fact that it will be the first Thanksgiving, the first Christmas, my first birthday without my granny. I won't get to hear her yell at everyone in the kitchen on how to properly make certain thanksgiving dinner dishes (even though she rarely knew the proper way either). I won't get to watch her get something she absolutely hates in the Christmas gift exchange, but she sticks with the crappiest gift because she wants everyone else to be happy. I won't get a hug, a kiss on the cheek, or a "Granny loves you" from her on my 20th birthday.

This past April, I watched my granny take her last breath. I stayed the entire night before with her in the hospital. I was terrified to let her be alone. I didn't want her to die by herself. That night was the most emotionally exhausting of my life.

No one tells you how miserable, uncomfortable, and long dying is.

I watched my granny all night, making sure she was breathing, holding her hand when the pain was too much, trying to calm her when she literally felt like she was drowning in her own lungs.

She couldn't speak, she could hardly see, she could barely remember who I was. No matter how tired I was I refused to fall asleep that night. I would've never forgiven myself if she had died alone.

After my granny died, my whole family surrounded her bed. We sobbed, we told her it was okay, we held each other, it was the closest we'd ever been in my life.

My heart ripped into pieces watching my uncle cry on top of her body, apologizing over and over again for not being better. I broke down when I had to call and tell my sister that she needed to come to the hospital immediately, and I fell into her arms when I had to tell her in the lobby of the hospital that Granny really was gone.

I never thought I would experience watching life literally leave a body. I never wanted to. It's hard to think about how real death is when you've never actually seen it first hand. That day, and every day since, death has not left my mind. I think about how we never really know when our time is up, and how scary it is that it could all come to an end at any moment.

A month before my granny died, I stopped by her house to drop something off to her. I was in a rush to go back to college after my break at home, and so I asked my sister to quickly go inside and drop it off so we could leave. My sister called me from inside the house, telling me to come inside because Granny wanted to see me. I refused and told her to hurry up. I was in a terrible mood already and I just wanted to leave. She kept begging me to come inside, I kept refusing. I would see her when I came home from school next time, I thought, she'll be fine until then.

The next time I saw her was in the hospital a day before she died. She had a tube down her throat, multiple IVs in her skin, she could hardly see, talk, or understand.

Although I was truly traumatized from watching, by far, my favorite person ever die, I will never regret spending that final day with her.

My granny was not like most grandmas. She was not sweet, she was not weak, she never accepted much help from anyone. She was strong, she was a bad ass, she would tell you like it was and didn't care who she offended.

She loved so much. She loved her siblings, her children, her grandchildren. She was a mom to her siblings long before she had any real kids (which was at the age of 15). She was strong, independent, got what she wanted, and loved fiercely. She was my biggest fan and never expected anything less than perfection from me. I love her, I always will.

Go home and hug your parents, your grandparents, your siblings, your friends, and everyone else you care about as soon as possible. Life is short, and the only thing that really matters in life is the love that we give. So give as much as possible.