Funeral Home-Personal Narrative

The time spent trying to relax and gather our thoughts in the hotel were very short lived. All of the pleasing moments flew by, while the unfavorable moments were about to stick with us like a sharp thorn. My family and everyone else pulled into the funeral home. Unfortunately, it seemed as if this sight was almost becoming routine. We all got out of our cars and gathered up, yet nobody amongst us wanted to be the first person to enter. Finally we got the courage to finally make our way inside and into the sign in area and lobby. I could hear the slight hum of slow, wistful music from the other room. I did not want to walk around the corner. On the inside I was trembling and hoping that I could have one long blink so I would not have to see what was awaiting me on the

I stood very close to my mom and dad and sisters as we finally went to enter the room where the source of slow music played. It was not a very long walk, in fact it was only a few steps, yet it seemed like walking down a never ending, dark hallway. The lighting in the lobby area was very dim which seemed appropriate. The main source of light was the grey evening which made its way through the windows. My family and I all looked at one another, and my father finally led my mom and us to the room where my great grandfather laid. In there waiting was my great grandmother. She sat on one of the chairs, handkerchief in hand, crying. Just crying. She didn’t have the strength to get up and hug us. I do not blame her. I had never seen her cry either. I don’t really know which made my heart hurt more, my grandma or dad crying. There is no way to ever decide that, and I pray to never have to know. My eyes were then drawn to my grandfather's casket. It was surrounded by an array of different colored flowers and the casket itself was a light shade of pearl blue. As my eyes made their way across it, I found my grandfather. Laying there. Lifeless. It was