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	Getting ready

	I woke up early this morning, a first in a long time. “7.30, nobody will be up yet” I thought. I slowly crept down the stairs, through the kitchen and into the living room. I sat there. I sat there for a long time, thinking about today. “What will I say? How will I react to the tears and sorrow?” I’m not exactly upset but I do feel some sort of a slot missing from the back of my head. My Grandfather and I were close but not close enough for dramatic tears and a long and mournful speech. “What will I wear?” Oh yes black of course but I don’t have much black clothes, my mother is bound to have something I can use. I’m not ready for this, people coming towards me all day telling me how great and noble my Grandfather was and I’m guessing eventually tears are going to flow, not heavy ones, light and easy ones, the ones that will be easy to make it look like I wasn’t crying, after I’ve gone to the bathroom and cleaned myself up. I have my speech and I’ve read it over and over again, but knowing me I’m bound to mess it up some how.



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