I've been thinking..
I remember my papaw's death whenever I was young. It was probably one of the hardest things I've ever been through honestly. He was my best friend; we were unseparatable. He was so bad, and he was supposed to die soon. I didn't know though. My family didn't want me to know. One of the nights before he died we were playing
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I love you, and I know what you're going through. I lost my grandfather, my great grandmother, and my great grandfather all in the same year when I was young, and it was hard, because I really didn't know what was going on. I didn't understand why they had been taken away from me, but I went on with my life, whatever there was to go on with, and it was over. But, now, as I'm older, I realize how special it would've been to have two sets of grandparents. And now, after 7 or so years, I miss them.
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