I can remember staying at my grandparents house and getting up with grandma at 5 in the morning and watching Lucille Ball on the reruns while she got ready for work. I remember staying up late the night before and sneaking up on grandpa while he was getting the icecream from the freezer. I can remember when my cousin Tina and I were teenagers him giving us twenty bucks and dropping us off at the mall for some fun. Grandpa did stuff like that. I feel guilty when I can't go visit him, but I am all grown up, and have a job, responsibilities. I haven't cried yet, maybe I just can't accept that everyone is so much older. I can't accept that every one dies, even grandpa. I don't want to; I want to go back to being a kid, back when life was fun, and I never worried about death. Everytime I think about this stuff my stomach hurts, I get this massive head ache, I have horrible nightmares. I don't fear my own death, but the thought of losing every one else scares the bujeesuz out of me. My vision of Hell is a blank space with no one in sight without even my own voice or thoughts to keep me company, no friends, no family, complete nothingness. I've tried to cry, I have sat down and forcibly tried to cry, just to get it out of my system, I can't. I keep thinking of how selfish i am being; to mourn someone. I mean he is the one who knows death is waiting around the bend, and here I am feeling sorry for myself for missing so many years of being around him. It's selfish I know it, and as far as Grandpa goes I wish him no pain, I don't want him to suffer, and I won't ask him to stay when it's time for him to go. But I will miss him, and it hurts like he**.