Earl.

I don't know how to grieve. But I think I'm doing it wrong.

Since as long as I can remember, Earl has been there. He's not related to me by blood, but nevertheless, he was pretty much my grandpa. I didn't get the chance to meet my actual grandfathers, but Earl did a fine job.

No need to lie, he was a bit strange, and I suppose that bothered some of my family. But I loved it. He was one of those war veterans who would tear up just recalling a memory. He smoked packs and packs of cigarettes a day, he complimented me every time I visited, he was always so proud of me. He loved Law & Order. But, most importantly, he adored my grandma.

I can so clearly recall the wedding of my grandma and Earl. That's due to the fact they got married last year. It was a semi-casual event. It was cold, I was piled in the backseat of my Mom's car with my sisters, headed to an apartment building. Inside the apartment building, we went right inside the home of the Pastor. Right in his living room, that's where Bonnie Flanagan and Earl Ashpole wed. My uncle Jim has a tape of it. After the ceremony, we went back to Mr. and Mrs. Ashpole's home. Pictures were taken, champagne was poured. Talking, laughing, rounds of hugs to the newlyweds. It was beautiful.

My parents were very hush-hush when Earl got cancer. I actually wasn't aware of that until last week, when my parents made my sister tell me. He had cancer, and then he had a heart attack. He was hospitalized. The doctors stabilized him, and everyone sounded so optimistic. Yet he was given morphine for the pain, that was about all they could do. He supposedly was getting stronger. My mother took a day off of work to visit him and my grandma. I did what I always did, just pretended nothing was happening, go on like nothing was different.

He died Thursday night. Last night.

I don't know how I made it through school today. I'm a better actor than I thought, no one seemed to know I was in despair. I was going to go home right after school, but the strangest thing happened, my friend came up and made me laugh for the first time since I found out. And it was weird, sounded a bit hysteric. I felt guilty for laughing. I drove home, very slowly. The sky was cloudy and it was raining, which was suitable for this situation.

It was strange. Thursday night, my mom was updating my father and I on Earl's condition. Then her phone rang. I eavesdropped, and by her tone of voice, the news wasn't good but it wasn't "the call". I was wrong, my mom walked back into the kitchen, a tear or two escape and she said, "That's it, he gone." Shortly after, my mom and dad left to go to town. The moment they were out the door, I started sobbing. Earl's always been there, Grandma's always had him. I never got to say goodbye.

Right now, I'm in that whole denial stage. That's the only reason I've been able to write this blog. These things happened, yes. But I'm not registering them. I don't want to, ever. I don't want to have to borrow a black dress for his funeral, I don't want to see my grandma cry, I don't want to be out of the only grandpa I ever had. I don't want to talk about him in past tense. I don't want to cry as I write these words, knowing I can't get what I want.

I don't want to function normally, I don't want life to go on as if nothing happened.

Something happened.