A/N: This was a hard piece to write since many of the facts are true. There are so many things that I am a loss at what to write. How far to go to keep it a fiction and not a documentary are sort of hard to decide where to draw the line. My grandparents really did die exactly nine months apart and there are things I'm still trying to deal with. Also this is my first piece from a first person fictional character. So if you review please be kind.

It has been one year today since my Grandfather died and in July it will be exactly two years since my Grandmother died. To understand my grief better maybe I should go back to July 18, 2001, the day that started it all.

On the afternoon of July 17, 2001 my Mother and I were out shopping. No matter that we didn't have the money, shopping was our haven. Joking around and laughing we were mocking my dad and his "match the Jones" policy he was adopting. Both of my parents are divorced and I'm glad. They just didn't belong together.

Near evening we had finished our shopping and my cell-phone was ringing by the time we had reached my car, I answered it with a simple "Sam, here". It was my Grandfather and he was frantic. My Grandmother was not feeling too good and he wanted us to stop by. I agreed and both my Mother and I hopped into the car and drove over there as fast as we could. When we reached the house my Grandfather was pacing back and forth wanting to call an ambulance but my Grandmother said no. While my Mother and Grandfather talked in the living room, I walked back into the hallway and turned into their bedroom.

There was my Grandmother lying down on the bed on her left side, her back to the door. My heart stopped beating for a moment or two and I wondered if she had died. Quelling my fear I reached over and touched her shoulder. Gently shaking her and holding my breath for her to wake. To this day I can still remember her soft doughy skin beneath my hand. See her eyes pinpoint on me. Grandmother saying, "What? Why can't you all leave me alone?" And my reply of, "Grandmother we all love you so much. Why don't you amuse us and go to the hospital."

A part of me wishes I remember if she told me she loved me or not back. I want so badly to say that's what she said. Even if she didn't there were plenty of other times she had said it. Instead I remember her begging to be left along. So I put my arms around her and her blue nightgown. Its sort of funny how I remember stuff like the color of her nightgown and which one it was while I can't remember if she told me she loved me. I whispered in her ear, "I love you Grandmother." And I went to the living room to talk with my Mother and Grandfather.

Poor guy, he looked so lost. They looked at me as I left the room. Quietly so as not to disturb my Grandmother I spoke, "Grandmother wants to be left alone and I think we should obey her wishes." They thought it over and agreed.

As we gathered up our stuff and walked over to my car I couldn't help but to think that this was the last night I would ever see my Grandmother alive. Keeping my fears to myself I plastered a smile on my face and walked away. It was no surprise to me the next morning at 5 a.m. my brother came over to my boyfriends' and mine apartment to tell me that Grandmother had died.