The Joy of Sorrow

             As I awoke one Autumn November morning, from my ever so peaceful slumber, I was
             awoken by a waking sense of uneasiness. As I slowly crawled out of bed, I had a unpleasing
             intuition that something has went devastatingly astray. A large well developed lump began to
             develop in my parched throat, making it seemingly hard for me to swallow. I cautiously made
             my way toward the door, carefully placing each foot between the defending G.I. Joe's and the
             intrudding He-man collectibles that had waged war the previous evening. As I reached the
             doorway, I slowly peeked around the corner, as if I were a small child ashamed of his previously
             doings. As my partially opened eyes adjusted to the piercing sunlight, that was embedding
             between the half-drawn curtains and the newly replaced window awnings, I saw that my
             grandmother was in a fetal position on the sofa with a look on her face as if she had seen her life
             flash before her eyes and her face drew whiter and whiter with each passing breath as if she had
             My father was trying as hard as he could to ease her discomfort, but it was to no avail as
             she drew further and further into her own world. By the look on my fathers' face I began to draw
             the conclusion that something had gone deathly wrong and the overall disposition of our
             household would be forever changed from this point on. As I anxiously scanned the remainder of
             the room, my eyes fell upon my mother standing in the doorway. A shadowy figure was handing
             her a monasouire of flowers with a card that was aptly placed in the center of the organic piece.
             By this point, I was nuzzled along my mothers' leg and in a rather crackly voice asked,
             "What's going on mom?, what and who are those flowers for?"
             "Your great-grandmother has gone to a better place," in a weakened voice.
             "She went to Disney World!" I asked in an exclaimed fashion.
             ...

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