People say that losing a loved one is a great tragedy. I believed them but never realized the horror of it. Death was something beyond my understanding until March 3rd, 1997. It was the day when I thought I would never collect the pieces of my broken heart, the day when God delivered hisfirst blow, the day of my grandfather's death. Like in "The Beginning of Grief" and "Shaving," my reaction, thoughts and feelings were very similar to Kevin's and Barry's. I recall looking up at the ceiling and asking myself when will I awake from this dream? I could not feel anything but this pain right in my heart, but I have realized that I cannot lock myself out forever from my loved ones.
I still remember holding the receiver and idly staring into space as my mother told me the news from the hospital. Then everything hit me full force like a hurricane. Like Barry, I finally realized what it was like to lose somebody who was a part of you. I always thought that such tragedies happened to somebody else, that my family and I were immune to everything harmful, although, deep inside I knew that sometime in the future I would have to say "good-bye." At that moment I realized that everybody would eventually die, including my family.
Days dragged by. I resumed my regular schedule by going to school and doing my chores. However, everything seemed different, unnatural. I did not cry anymore, clutching Grandpa's photograph to my chest or blaming God for taking him away. I felt empty. I did not enjoy biking as I used to or ice-skating. I simply stayed home all day and did nothing but homework. One day I realized that a whole month had gone by since the funeral. That is when I looked back at my life and saw that I was wasting it. It is not like I was supposed to have fun on the second day after the funeral, but I had simply stopped living. Like, Kevin I also became obstinate and distant. I barely talked


I'm Sandulf

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