My grandfather passed away this morning at about 6 or 7 in the morning.

He passed just minutes before I could get my mom, brother, and I to the hospital even though I was going about 95 in a 55; I tried. My younger sister was with him when he went and she said he went peacefully and quick.

The only thing good I think I can take from this now is he's no longer in pain. I don't know if I believe in life after death and this, like the other deaths I have experienced in my life, has sent me into a state of confusion and questioning everything.

You know, it's awkward walking into a room of more than a dozen people who are crying. And when you look into the eyes of the body laying there still warm, you feel nothing. It's not until you look into the eyes of the mourning that the emotions hit you: the memories, the conversations, the good times and the bad.

There is one thing that I can say about my relationship with my grandfather in 19 years I have known and loved him. I never once took him for granted and I'm thankful for that. He lived so far away and I hardly got to see him so whenever I did see him or talk to him on the phone, I spoke to him as it would be the last time. As recent events have proven, a lot can happen in mere months.

I was his oldest grandchild. The only one he got to see go through high school and make it to college. The last time I got to spend real time with him was when I came to visit for three days earlier this month. He told me several times that he was proud of me going through school, having a stable job, and being a "good member of the family", as he put it.

Now, we're off to mediate disputes about services and burial plots.

Thanks to those who have given me support. It means the world to my family and I.

<3

imisshimalready.