Pe trei decembrie 2012 s-a stins din viata bunicul meu, dupa o lunga si chinuitoare suferinta. Pentru mine a fost bunicul din povesti, cel care se juca cu mine, cel care m-a invatat sa fac primele calcule simple, cel care m-a invatat sa scriu primele litere, cu mult inainte de a incepe scoala. Desi, cei din familie se asteptau ca el sa moara, pentru ca sanatatea lui se deteriora si mai mult in ultimele luni, pentru mine decesul sau a insemnat pierderea directiei in viata.Parintii s-au staduit sa vorbeasca in termeni cunoscuti de mine, la nivelul varstei mele despre moarte, sa o inteleg si sa accept pierderea, desi si pentru ei era dureros sufleteste si greu de disimulat. Tot ei mi-au spus sa nu merg in incaperea in care era depus si nici la funeralii, daca simt ca nu mi-ar face bine? Cum as fi putut? Bunicul era sufletul meu, parte din inima mea, asa ca l-am plans impreuna.A fost dureros, am ramas cu multe de ce-uri in minte.A urmat o perioada in care nu imi mai gaseam directia, m-am afundat in tristete, m-am retras din grupul de prieteni, scoala nu ma interesa, am inceput sa i-au note proaste.Intr-o sambata si-a facut aparitia la usa noastra Alex, prietenul meu, pe care il neglijasem, nu-i mai raspundeam la telefon, nu mai ieseam cu el. Suntem prieteni de la gradinita.A stat toata ziua cu mine si in multe alte zile. Ne-am jucat la calculator, dar mai ales am vorbit. M-a sprijinit enorm si impreuna am deslusit atat cat am putut tainele vietii si ale mortii. Am ajuns la concluzia ca bunicul ma vegheaza de sus, e ingerul meu ca s-a despart de corpul fizic de pe aceasta lume, dar ca sufletul sau va trai vesnic.On December 3, 2012 my grandfather passed away after a long and agonizing suffering. For me it was the grandfather from story, who was playing with me, who taught me first to do simple calculations , who taught me to write the first letters before starting school.Although the family expected him to die because his health deteriorated further in recent months, for me it meant death or loss of direction in life.Parents have tried to speak in terms known to me, at my age about death, to understand and accept the loss, although it was painful and difficult soul and disimulat!!!.They also told me to not go in the room where the funeral, if I would feel better? How could I? Grandpa was my soul, part of my heart, so we cried together.It was painful, why we stayed with many ce-uri in mind.There was a time when I no longer found myself direction, I plunged in sadness, I retired from the group of friends, school not interested, I started to have bad grades. In a Saturday Alex has appeared at our door, my friend, that I neglected no longer answer the phone, do not go out with him. We are friends from kindergarten.He stayed with me all day and many other days. We played on the computer, but mostly we talked. Enormous support I have discerned together as much as we could mysteries of life and death. I concluded that my grandfather watching from above, it's my angel to separate from the physical body of this world, but his soul will live forever.