My maternal grandmother died in a day from a heart attack. I came home from school one day and she was already gone. I didn't have a chance to see her and initially I really wanted to see her. But now I've realized how much it would probably affect me to see my always happy and cheerful grandmother in a hospital bed dying all of a sudden. I still don't know the exact details (all I know is she spent the night with chest pains and in the morning my dad and my uncle took her to the hospital and she eventually passed away). I don't know what was said, if she said anything about me or my brother (I still haven't gathered the balls to ask), it was just like she was gone like that and in my mind I couldn't accept it, there was no closure for me. I vividly remember sitting in the Gran Turismo menu with a really powerful ambient music just trying to grasp how that happened. I was 15 at the time. My dad is a pretty stoic man and not very emotional at all but I remember how shaken and disturbed he looked. It was just like if you got home and your parents told you the car had broke down. It really haunted me how I was just left without a grandmother like that. Even at her funeral I was still in disbelief and I honestly felt like shit when I realized that I wasn't as sad as I should be. She lived in the next district and I didn't get to see her everyday and that's probably part of the problem, but even staring at the coffin it just didn't feel real that my grandmother was in there and not coming back. I'm sorry for ranting like this but this thread made me really think about this and made me come to terms with the fact that perhaps it was best that I didn't get to see her on her last day on earth when I had 15 years to be her grandson and to build memories of her that remain untouched by her death.