My Grandpa died when I was very little.   He died because he was in the woods hunting, with a bunch of other farmers, for a coyote that had been killing the farmer's sheep and chickens.

It was a very cold and wet day and Grandpa had a stroke, but he wouldn't go to the hospital.   A few days later he got pneumonia.   That's a really bad infection in your lungs.   The doctors didn't have good medicines like we have today and they couldn't make him get better.  

My Daddy lifted me up so I could look down at Grandpa in the casket.

"Why is Grandpa sleeping in that box?" I asked.   That made my Daddy cry.

After that, my Grandma was very lonely and sad.   I was her only grandchild, so when Momma and Daddy went away, I got to stay with Grandma.   Sometimes, even when Daddy and Momma were home, I still got to stay, just because.

She had a lot of work to do all by herself on the farm, but she always had time for me and let me go everywhere with her.