It was cold. I was scared. I felt alone. A soft sheet of rain sprinkled our hair as we stepped outside of the car. Everyone tried to be cheerful saying things such as, "I'm so glad we got everyone all together in Ilinois! How exciting!" But all of us knew that sooner or later, we would have to start the funeral. My aunt, who had cordinated it all, lined us up in front of the church, two by two. My uncles, the two eldest, stood at the front, holding the gold-tinted boxes in their hands. I gulped back tears. How could everything seem so normal when my grandparents weren't here? Soft music filled the room and or aunt motioned us to start down the church aisle. I could barely keep myself from crying as severak strangers who happened to be in the church stared at me. Never the less, I stepped into the row and sat there. Through the entire hour of the priest talking about what wonderful people my grandparents were and through the gospel and concecration, all I could focus on was the two boxes, holding the creminated remains of my grandparents. When the mass ended, some of my relatives went up and told funny stories about my grandparents. But instead of laughter, all I could feel was sadness. We started to leave the church in lines again, and with all the peole watching me and my family, I couldn't hold back my tears. I sobbed silently in front of the church for what seemed like hours. I felt a strong but kind hand touch my shoulder and gently pull me into a hug. I cried harder into my uncle's coat and felt like I couldn't let go. My aunt announced that we were going to the burial site and i broke from my uncle. I rushed into the car and let my tears drip onto the black fabric of my dress. The car started and we were off. Once there, everyone sat down on a velvet covered chair. Five men roughly in their late eighties, stepped into the clearing in full army dress. My grandfather had been in the army, so these men were there to salute him. They fires off three rounds, then lowered their guns. As we traveled back to my aunts house in Saint Louis, I stared out the window. The scenery that was omce beautiful now seemed dull and gray. We passed a field of corn, and I suddenly remembered something my mom once told me, "Honey, I know this sounds like the opposite of what you're feeling, but we should be happy for Grandmary. She's going to a better place where she'll be young and with Grandad. And believe me, she will always be praying for us." I smiled at this memory and tears fell freely down my cheeks. I looked up into the sky and saw a small break in the clouds where a ray of sunlight beamed proudly through. I smiled and laughed excitedly, tears rolling down my cheeks. My parents looked confused then happy when they saw me. I knew my grandparents were happy, and one day, I would see them too.