I Read a Poem Once Called Come to Me When My Grandpa Was on His Death Bed at His

“Come To Me”

I read a poem once called “Come to me” when my Grandpa was on his death bed at his

final battle of brain cancer. To this day every time I hear this poem it brings back so many

memories.

When I first found out that my Grandpa was sick, and wasn’t going to make it. I was

angry, sad, hurt, just a mix of emotions. I couldn’t understand completely why he waited

to even tell us in the first place and why when we did find out it was already at the end of his

battle. I also didn’t understand why he didn’t fight harder, as horrible as it sounds, I felt like he

just gave up. But, I remember going to the hospital to see him, and my first thought was how

tired he looked. He looked as if he couldn’t possibly last another day, as if he was just put

through the ringer.

When I went home that night, I cried my eyes out. I was so angry and hurt, I couldn’t get

a grasp on why he was chosen, why he had to be the one to leave us. It wasn’t fair to me. I

started browsing online unsure of what exactly I was looking for when I came across “Come to

me”. When I first read this poem, I cried harder then I have ever cried in my whole life. It only

said but a couple sentences, but it said everything it needed to say. I felt so selfish. Selfish for

being angry, and selfish for not trying to completely understand everything.

This poem is about how God saw him getting tired and a cure was not to be, and even

though we loved him dearly we couldn’t make him stay, God broke our hearts to prove he only

takes the best. These few words touched me more than anything, because if you knew my

Grandpa at allyou knew he was a fighter, he fought until the very end. He never gave up on

anything. He just didn’t want us all to see him going through the battle.

So when I read this, what I failed to see the first time was he did fight, he fought until

there was no more fight in him. He fought until he was just completely tired, andeven though

we wanted to keep him to ourselves, we couldn’t make him stay. He was one of the chosen ones,

one of the best.

This poem will always be one of my favorites. It will always be something I look back on

and remember my Grandpa for. Remember he was chosen, he was a fighter and that he never

gave up, he was just tired from the battle.

“Come to me”

“God saw you getting tired, and a cure was not to be. So He put his arms around you and

whispered, “Come to Me.” With tearful eyes we watched you, and saw you pass away, and

although we loved you dearly, we could not make you stay. A golden heart stopped beating,

hard working hands at rest. God broke our hearts to prove to us, He only takes the best.”

-Author Unknown.