It was a quiet day in the house. Everyone was down stairs except my grandpa. I was in the family room watching television with my mom, my grandma was cleaning the kitchen after we had lunch, and my uncle was sitting at the table in the living room. Upstairs, my grandpa was in the master bed room watching television in bed. My mom and I went up stairs to check on my grandpa. My uncle came along to help bring him down stairs in the wheel chair. I followed behind my mom and uncle as they brought him down the stairs. I got to help too; by carrying his oxygen tubes so nobody trips on them or get crushed by somebody stepping on them. My grandpa was on hospice and he only had so many months to live.

Once he was down stairs he checked his email in the family room, with my mom's assistance. The computer was by the back door sliding glass window. It peered into the backyard where all of the flowers were in bloom. He couldn't move that well, so he needed help. I just sat on the couch and continued to watch Mr. Rogers on the television. "Go into the living room," my mom told me.

"Okay mommy," I responded.

"Thank you," my mom said.

My grandpa had to go to the bathroom but he couldn't get up so he had to go in a dish or container that my grandma had got for him to use. I peered into the room as my mom was helping my grandpa. My mom saw me and looked at me with a disapproving face. I went and sat on the white leather couch in the living room. It was very cold and I had a cold shiver down my spine. The living room was a big area with another white leather couch next to it that had a window overlooking the front yard. It also had a table for if we had company and we wanted to eat there. After he was done my mom said "you can come back in now."

"Okay," I said and went back into the family room and sat on the couch covered in a blue cover to continue my show on the television. Uncle and my mom helped my grandpa lay down on the floor because he wanted to. I put a pillow on the floor near the brown dresser so he can have something to lie on. We covered him with a fuzzy blanket that had a picture of a cat and a butterfly on it. He barfed a little on the left side of the pillow. I thought it was a bit gross.

I was holding his hand under the blanket. His hand began to feel cold and started getting stiff. "He is dead," my mom announced in a sad way. The lifelessness of the body scared me. He died with his eyes open and my uncle closed them shut. I started crying and screaming. As my uncle took me out of the family room I was kicking and squirming. Since my grandpa and I were so close, it was really hard for me to let go because I loved him so much. My uncle kept me on the couch in the living room. My mom called 911, but my grandma told her not to and to just call the doctor.

The paramedics came later that day. They brought the body bag and stretcher. The body bag was black, and the stretcher was silver. I was upstairs when they came, so I came down stairs and watched them take him away. They lifted him into the body bag and lifted him onto the stretcher. As they rolled the lifeless body out of the house, it was like a part of me was going away. The man who was once alive, lie still in the bag. It was hard not having a grandpa in the house, where you grew up with him and had many memories with him. Being only six and turning seven two months later, it was a big scarring thing to see death happen right in front of you. Till this day I still think about what happened eleven years ago.