One weird thing about death . . .

There was one weird thing about my grandfather dying that I realized about death, and that is who we choose to be our bearer of bad news. I was sleeping when my brother woke my up to tell me that my grandfather had died. I then asked him if my middle sister knew, and he said my mother should tell her. Then, I asked about my youngest sister knew. I was going to tell her, when my middle sister said she would tell my youngest sister.

We all preferred to experience the initial shock of knowing that my grandfather had died with a specific sibling. I suppose it has something to do with how the news is communicated. I tend to be more straight forward and blunt, so when I receive bad news I don't want it to be sugar coated. My brother tends to be more blunt with me than the rest of my family members. I suppose the rest of my siblings have similar reasons that fit their own communication preferences.

With that, our family waited to figure out what was next.