"Mom, are you okay?"

It was an October afternoon. It was that time of year where, even though we don't have "4 seasons" here in the valley, it was starting to feel like autumn. I was ten years old in fifth grade.

My little brother and I were playing with the electric keyboard in our bedroom (which we shared at the time). Music filled the room as we played and danced around in glee, free of worries.

I left the room and went into the kitchen. At that moment, the phone rang. It was a call from Pennsylvania, and my mom answered it. Shortly thereafter, her whole face changed. I had never seen her with this expression before. Her eyes were filled with tears, and her voice wavered as she continued to talk on the phone. After she hung up, I asked, "Mom, are you okay?" She replied yes, and shortly thereafter took my brother and me to swim practice.

That night after swim practice, there was a certain quiet at the dinner table amongst m mom, dad, brother, and myself. Afterwards, we sat down in the living room on our sofa, where she told us the news. "Grandpa died."

I didn't know how to react. In fact, I didn't have much of a reaction, let alone an emotional one. I had many cherished memories of my grandpa, but I never saw him on a daily basis because he lived in Ephrata, Pennsylvania. Upon hearing the news, I simply thought to myself, That means I will never see him again. I only have Grandma now. At that age, I understood what death meant, but not to the capacity I do now. I realized he was gone forever, but I didn't fully understand the impact it would have on my mom and the rest of my family and relatives.