Everything Changes

Four years ago, I got a call from my mom. Her voice was small, weak and a little raspy. It cracked when the words escaped her: grandpa died. My mouth dropped. My heart stopped. I had no words. I didn’t even have feelings yet. Our conversation is a blur, but I determined to travel with her into town. We arrived at the old house and found the rest of the family preceded us. This time, although it was the entire family reunited, it was nothing like old times. There was sitting. Staring. Quiet. Weeping. Funeral arrangements. We watched the news story about his death. And still, I had not cried. What was I? An emotionless monster?