• It is amazing how many things we take for granted. We make plans for the day, and don't think twice about how those plans can be taken away in the blink of an eye. I was ten years old at the time, never did I thought much about it myself, until I was faced with the shock, and undeniable truth of my grandpa's death. The death of my grandfather taught me that most people never had the thought about tragedy until they are actually faced with shocking news.
    I was wide awake, tossing and turning on the soft, narrow bed. I could tell that my grandfather was also awake. He was lying on the left side of my bed. His breathing was slow and steady like a sloth. He too, was tossing and turning. I looked at him curiously and asked, “Grandpa, you can’t sleep?” I noticed my grandpa’s golden-hazel eyes staring at me with deep confusion and concern.
    “I’m old, Hung. We tend not to be able to sleep as well as you youngsters.” Hung, I really hated that name. Grandpa was the only one in the family who called me Hung. He had light brown skin, paper-white hair, and his wrinkles were perfectly shaped like they stood for something. Grandpa suddenly narrowed his eyes at the fishing rod. “Hung, you’re not going to school tomorrow, right?” my grandpa interrogated.
    “Right now is 5:45 am, it’s already tomorrow. But, I’m not going to school today. It’s Saturday!” I explained. My grandpa’s facial expression changed; he looked like he saw a million dollars.
    “Why don’t we go fishing? We never went in a long time!” he sounded very happy.
    Yes. I was a long time since I went out fishing with my grandpa, and now that he looks so happy, I can’t just say, no.
    “Sure, why not?” I said unsurely. I guess my grandpa notice I wasn’t sure, but he still looked happy.
    He prepared everything. Fishing rods, baits, weight, you name it. “I guess we are ready to go!” he cheered. His smile had seemed to have some kind of shine with it, but little did he know that he wasn’t going to smile, again.

    Grandpa tugged everything into the old, navy-blue Nissan. He gently lifted his pale cheery face and gave me an inspirational wink, “Almost ready, boy.” He smiled. The winkles on this forehead formed four perfect, smooth parallel lines. Finally, Grandpa slowly walked past me, and slowly lifted a long, six ft., sapphire-blue fishing rod with intricate koi-fish engravings everywhere around the pole. He gently took his vulnerable, wrinkly hands and brushed the dust off the beautiful rod. Then, he suddenly turned his golden-hazel eyes to meet mine and gave me a jubilant smile and a thumbs-up
    ***
    I held on to the Nissans handle bar like a child clinging on to his mother, as my grandpa drove. Even though he was my grandpa, I couldn’t trust his horrendous driving skills. I suddenly narrowed my eyes at my grandpa; his smile stretched a mile a minute.
    “Grandpa, why is it that you love fishing so much?” I asked, curiously.
    “Hung, it’s not the fishing that makes me happy. It’s because standing up, I can feel the sun’s rays embrace my pale skin. Walking farther down the shore my body gets consumed with cold chills as the texture of the grainy, wet sand squishes between my toes. The wind blows softly and tousles my hair away from my face. This is where my brain can unwind and forget about everything else,” my grandpa descriptively explained.
    I looked at my grandfather, confused. “So, if you don’t like to fish. Why are we here?” I asked, dumbfounded.
    “You are now too young to understand, Hung. Once you are older you will know what I am talking about,” Grandpa said. I sighed as I looked the opposite direction of my grandfather. Fishing was just fishing. I had no idea why he was being so complicated. Grandpa suddenly slowed down and turned and parked in front of a Seven-Eleven store. His expression changed completely. He was sweating and panting. I looked at him in disbelief and horror…
    It felt like I was back five years ago, when Grandpa had a heart attack. The painful expression on his face, the despair in his eyes never looked so mournful. Just like 5 years ago. I finally got a hold of myself. My shaking hand scrambled for the cell phone. I dialed 911 as fast as my sweaty hands could move.
    ***
    I waited patiently in the hospital as they checked my grandfather. Everything happened so fast, everything was like a dream. My grandpa and I were supposed to have a nice fishing trip, but he ended up in the hospital. I sat looking at the floor, dazed. “Eric!” a familiar voice exclaimed. It was my dad. The hospital must have reached my dad. “What happened, why is your grandfather in here?” my dad asked deeply surprised. I didn’t want to explain. I couldn’t. What was I supposed to say? He just had a heart attack on our way to go fishing? My dad seemed to understand my condition, and spoke of my grandpa no more, until the doctor came out.
    “Are you the family of Mr. Chu?” asked the doctor, professionally.
    “Yes we are; how is he?” my dad asked immediately.
    “Mr. Chu is fine for the time being. He just had a minor heart attack, but he is fine now. But I’m afraid he will have to stay for a while,” the doctor explained.
    “Thank you so much, Doctor,” my dad said in a relieved tone.
    On the way home, I was mentally fatigued. “My poor boy, you must have been scared,” my dad said sympathetically. Poor boy? It’s Grandpa who got a heart attack, not me. I had no idea why my dad was feeling bad for me, when Grandpa was the one in pain. I climbed on to bed, tired and scared. I closed my tired lids, and slept.
    It was a typical school day. I told no one the incident about my grandpa. I tried to forget about it until there was an announcement. “Eric Phan, please come to the office.” I walked slowly to the office to find out that my dad was right there.
    “Eric, c’mon get your stuff we are going home,” my dad said calmly. I didn’t really ask why because I wanted to go home. I got all of my belongings and walked into the van.
    “What’s wrong, Daddy?” I asked curiously.
    “I’ll tell you when we got there,” my dad answered in devastating calm. He lied. He didn’t say a word. We were at the hospital. Everything made sense. I was going to visit my grandpa to see how he is doing, I thought. As I approached my grandpa’s room a nurse came up to me.
    “I’m sorry,” the nurse said in a mournful tone. Why was she sorry? I thought to myself. As I walked in I was surprised to see everyone. All of the family was there; even my grandfather’s friends were there. But, why was everyone crying? There was a pang in my chest. I moved closer and saw my grandpa. His skin was not pale anymore, it was dead white. There were no more wires on him. I couldn’t believe what I saw.
    “What’s going on?” I asked, “Why isn’t Grandpa awake?” No one answered. My mom suddenly attempted to hug me.
    “What happened to Grandpa, wake him up!” I exclaimed as I shoved my mother away. Two nurses suddenly entered the room and put a blanket over my grandpa’s head.
    “He will deliver him to the funeral home,” one of the guys said.
    “What funeral home?” I said, stupidly, “Why is my grandpa going to a funeral home!” The two males ignored what I said and continued to carry him away. I fell on the hard ground as my mother once again attempted to hold on to me. I also held on to my mother, and wept.
    Until this day I still think of my grandfather. His death changed me so dramatically; I can’t seem to indentify myself or who I truly am. I was once a naive kid who always depended on his grandfather for everything, and now that he isn’t here, I depended more on myself. I found myself striving to live everyday intentionally and purposely. But, why is it that life can be changed so drastically at any moment? My grandpa left me a moral/lesson: people can’t seem to sense tragedy until they experienced that bitter despair called, sadness.