I wonder how it feels like dying. I wonder how it's like, laying in bed aimlessly, taking your last breath. Do you really see a white light like they say? Or does everything turn dark and empty?

My mom was the person that told me me great-grandma had died. She said she had passed away peacefully, without pain. My mom told me this without sorrow or tears, but with a gentle smile. How could you smile at this? I wondered confused. Why?

I remember my mom receiving a phone call from the Philippines. I could hear her laughing and shouting in Tagalog. I could see her face, bright and fresh like the morning sun. She looked so happy and overjoyed to talk to her sister again. But as I listened to her conversation more, I could hear her voice starting to shake. The atmosphere of the room faded into some kind of sadness, and I began to worry.

I watched as my mom hung up the phone and grab a tissue. She looked up at me, sniffling, and walked over to where I was standing.

"What's wrong?" I asked, looking up at her.

"Your great grandma died." She said, smiling softly, bringing the crumpled tissue up to her nose. Not knowing what to say, I stood there silently mouthing the word, "Oh." It was difficult finding comforting words to say.