Choir has always been a favorite class of mine. I am not a great singer, but singing makes me happy.

On a cold winter day in January, while I was singing in choir, my principal interrupted me. He politely asked me to follow him to the school office. My body froze. I quickly racked my brain for any stupid mistakes I could have made, but nothing came to mind.

“Don’t worry, Kaylie. You aren’t in any trouble,” he said. “Your mom is waiting in the office to
Relief flooded through me. Then, suddenly, my mind comprehended what he had just said. My mom was in the school office? She worked 20 minutes away. Why would she drive all the way to my school?

I looked up into my principal’s face. “Do you know why my mom is here?”

He hesitated for a moment and said, “Umm . . . I think your mom better explain.”

That one sentence made my stomach turn upside down. Horrible images flashed through my head. As we rounded the corner to the school office, I saw my sister walking out. I gave her a questioning look. As she walked past me, she whispered two words.

“Grandpa’s dead.”

Wait, I wanted to scream out. I must have heard her wrong. I ran to catch up to her. “What did you say?” I asked her.

“Grandpa’s dead,” she said for the second time. “He’s gone.”

This couldn’t be the grandpa that I knew. My grandpa was strong and healthy. I had just seen him at Christmas, and he was as joyful as ever.

My mom was an absolute wreck. Her face was red and blotchy, and tears were running down her face. I started saying everything a faithful Christian should say: Grandpa was in heaven now, and we should be happy for him. But I don’t even know if I half-believed what I was saying myself. I hated to see my mother cry so helplessly. We left immediately to see my grandma and help with funeral arrangements.

The rest of that week went by in a blur of flowers, caskets, and crying. I could see how strong my grandma was trying to be, but I knew she was putting on a brave face. She had just lost the man she had loved and lived with for more than five decades.

The night before the funeral, I sat in my grandmother’s living room, looking through the family pictures. I came across a wonderful picture of my grandpa at his wedding. A huge grin consumed his face. A smile crept into the corners of my mouth, but I hastily replaced it with a grimace. I missed him. No more bear hugs. No more kisses. Just nothing.