Hello all.

I have something terrible to share with you. A few days ago, when I was doing stuff on my phone, my dad called me to get downstairs for a conversation. It was about my grandfather, the father of my mom. He had been suffering from dementia for a few weeks, and things looked dire for him. He had been living in a nursing home not far away from where he used to live on his own, and his situation only went downhill from there. Sure, the people looked after him A-OK, but my mother complained about them not giving her father the proper care he needed. That has been settled however. But yesterday when I was called downstairs, my mother sat with me on the living room couch for a while.

Mom told me that my grandfather would have one mere week left before he would... let's say, depart to the other world. But we were all in for an even greater shock. Oneday when the people in charge of the nursing home went and checked if my grandfather was doing well, he didn't answer or move, like, at all. It turned out he had been sleeping for a while, and had DIED IN HIS SLEEP. I really didn't know what to say or what to think, and it was only today just before leaving my workplace at the gardens and taking my bike back home that I really began to feel the weight of the unfolding situation. I returned home just a few minutes ago and was planning on handing my mom a small bouquette of flowers that my boss made for me back at the gardens. But when I did return home, none of my parents were home. They were nowhere to be found. Yes, Labradoodle Yani was home, but she wouldn't have a dang clue as to what to do with a bouquette of tiny flowers, would she?

When I heard about the shocking news about my grandfather, I'd imagine the ceremony would be happening in about three, maybe four days from now, just so that I would be able to shake off that sad, negative feeling that I still have as of writing this Journal. But to my... disappointment (is that the right term to use here?), the ceremony would take place an entire WEEK from now! Why the HELL would it take so long? Why would they take so long for my family to realize my grandfather had only two weeks to live? Is it because my family didn't expect the death of my grandfather to happen this early so they had to suddenly and quickly organize and prepare everything needed for the funeral to be held? And what makes it sting even more, is that the very next day after I heard the news from my parents, it happened. My parents told me that the doctors -- or whoever was there to estimate how long my grandfather would still live -- said it would, at max, two entire WEEKS before he would... let's say, depart. Yet he died the very next day after the day I received the news from my parents! That is utterly shocking, especially when you combine that with the fact that it will indeed take so dang long to prepare the funeral.

Please wish me luck, and I hope you all are doing well.