What His Death Showed Me!
When my grandfather died, I was young about five I think, but I remember. This was the beginning of me separating myself from death, I shed few tears if any.I remember when my aunt Mayola died. I was about nine or ten years old. She had been in the hospital for a while, and when I got the word that she had died, I told myself that I didn’t know her that well, that she was in the hospital and she was going to die anyway, and I shed few tears. When my grandmother died, I told myself that she was old, that she was going to die. She was 100 years old. I told myself that it was her time and I shed few tears. When my Aunt Cat died, I told myself that she had been sick for a while and that it was her time. I shed few tears at her funeral. When my cousin Nicholas died though it was a car accident and it was completely unexpected I told myself that it was his time, and I shed few tears. When my cousin Deborah died I was devastated, but went into a hole and quickly came out. When my uncles and other aunt died, I repeated what had worked with all the other deaths. When I got word that you died, it has been nineteen days and I can’t stop crying. The tears won’t stop, and I don’t know how to turn them off.