I remember receiving the phone call from my uncle that my grandfather had suffered a massive heart attack sometime early morning. My grandmother found him in their bedroom slumped over on a dressing chair. I screamed so loud the word “no” that my neighbor came running out from her house. I feel like everything else that day was kind of a fog. I immediately went to their house to be with the rest of the family. We all couldn’t believe it. I remember thinking the whole way there that my uncle had the wrong information Somehow, some way he was wrong. Pap probably had a heart attack and had to be rushed to the hospital, but there was no way he was dead. We just had Sunday dinner the day before, he was perfectly fine then. I was in complete denial. …show more content…
I was so angry. I still am sometimes. I think a death like this really makes a person question their own religion. I became angry at my God and the beliefs I had. That in itself is another grieving process alone. I remember being angry at my pap for not taking better care of himself. I remember being angry and my grandmother for not finding him sooner. And then I became angry at myself. I was angry because I didn’t think I showed him how much he meant to me. I began to evaluate everything we had done together and feel as though I could’ve done so many things