My mom just told me the news. My grandfather died this evening. I don't know how to react. We'd known for quite some time that he probably wasn't going to live much longer, and on Friday he stopped eating. Now I can't stop playing "Here, There, and Everywhere" on my stereo, trying to make my mind register that the place filled by my grandfather is suddenly vacant. I didn't cry immediately. I only cried when my mom started talking about the stories of my adventures with my grandfather when I was just a toddler. But still, it was only a few tears. God, I cried more at the ending of "A.I.". I feel like such a jerk because this isn't bothering me more. An insensitive jerk. Apathetic. Uncaring. Papa was my first death in the family. I've never been to a funeral. Before this, the closest person to me to die was my Biology teacher, Mrs. Brennan. So why won't tears come? Why am I not depressed and despondent, or retreating into my shell? This was my father's father, for crying out loud. My link to the past. Had my sister been a boy, I would have been named after him! Priscilla Morris Spencer. My initials would have been PMS.

Morris Grady Spencer, 94, died at his home on October 8, 2001.

So why won't this register?