The black clouds that floated in the air would simply put the worst thoughts in anybody's mind. Walking down what seemed to be a never ending hallway, the air was still and the sound of a pin drop could be heard from a mile away. As I walked down the old sterile tiled hallway it marked the last time I would see my Grandfather. I was convinced that there were no patients on his floor, all the doors were closed and there was only one nurse. I asked my mother "Where is everyone? Why is there only one doctor here?" I couldn't understand. My mother replied "Michael, this is where they bring the people who don't have very good chances of living." At that point and time I froze, I didn't want to go see my best friend who was there for me my whole life for the last time. When I finally built up the courage to walk into the room I cried immediately. Right away my eyes started balling, I tried to stay strong emotionally and talk to my Grandfather as though this wouldn't be the last time. I was in denial. I knew it was going to happen but I wanted to prevent it. I thought that If I didn't go into the room then he wouldn't die.
             A kind, humble, gentle man always there to support me in any situation, my grandfather was the most influential person in my life up until the moment he died. I saw my Grandfather just about everyday when I was younger, or at least talk to him over the phone. He always liked to check up to see how my day went. My Grandfather showed me the true meaning of life and taught me how to look at the brighter things, and take everything for what its worth. We talked for hours at a time; baseball, school, stories about my dad and uncle we talked about everything imaginable.
             Often times if I was missing from the house or I hadn't been heard from, my parents would have to call and say that it was time to come home. We would get so caught up sitting in the kitchen under the stained glass lamp that was bright enough to light ...