My grandfather passed away in August last year. It shocked us all, was unexpected, and in many ways it was the perfect death. He died peacefully, at home, the way we had always prayed he would go. No one was really ready for him to be gone though. Truth be told, I don’t think we can ever be ready to lose the people we love.
A couple of weeks ago my mum asked me if I was happy. She asks me this regularly, I guess since for a while I was really unhappy. I replied in a typical teenage fashion (ignore the fact that I haven’t been a teenager for a couple of years now). In a very unenthusiastic voice I told her I was okay and I was getting by. Later that night I realised I hadn’t exactly answered her question. She asked me if I was happy, which is actually a simple yes or no question.