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Now, this is a pretty hard entry. I'm having to stretch into my mind and bring up all of my past emotions.

My grandfather and I were really close "buddies", you could say. He was there with my parents when I was born and we've been close ever since. In fact, he even had a little nickname for me: Honeybear. My sister was Sugarbear. And my grandma. She's so nice. She has our secret family recipe for homemade cinnimon rolls. MMMMM!!! heart The years past on, and every time we came to see him, he would always drive us to the historical Bedrock Store, located, guess where? A town called Bedrock!!! OMG! NO WAY!!! Anyway, he'd drive us there while my sister and I sat in the bed of the truck. We had some great times together.

That is, until one day when he fell sick. He later found out that it was a tumor in his small intestine. That meant he couldn't digest anything solid, he was constantly constipated (that's not funny! scream ) and needed rest all the time. I couldn't bear to see him suffer. It was so hard on our whole family. I can't imagine how my grandmother could bear it. One day, we packed our bags after staying there for a few days, and that was the last we saw of him. A few days later, we got a phonecall from my grandma. Grandpa... was dead. eek I thought I would dissolve into thin air right there. burning_eyes I was so attached to him, it broke my heart. cry I went into a great depression. He died about 3 years ago. I still miss him. Oh, how I wish he could come back!

That's all for now.