On February 3, 2008, my dad was at the hospital that day, so I had slept in my mom’s room with my brothers. I was sleeping perfectly fine but then around 11:00 p.m. the phone had rung and when my mom answered it, I heard my grandma talking to her. I had heard my mom say that she wouldn’t be able to make it to Europe because no one would be here to watch the kids. After she hung up my brother asked what happened and she said that my grandpa is really sick and he is in the hospital. Once I heard that, I wasn’t able to fall asleep at all. The only thing I could do was cry about it and make sure no one heard me. Then at 3:00 in the morning—now it was the 4th—I heard the phone ring again, and I heard my aunt saying it’s okay. Then my mom said bye, and I asked her what happened. Then she said that my grandpa had passed away. After that I couldn’t stop crying, I just thought that my heart would explode any minute. It was really hard for me because I was raised by my grandparents for seven years. It was about seven months since we had come back, when we had visited them. Once that day had passed I started having these dreams, with my grandpa in them. One of the dreams was when I was at school and I saw my grandpa in a wheel chair covered up in the stuff they put mummies in. When I ran up to hug him, he just disappeared. The second time I tried to hug him, my hands just went through him. There was one time when I ran up to hug him and he was hugging me back and I had actually felt that someone was hugging me. I never wanted to let go.