On January 26th at 6:15 P.M. our 12 year old grandson came over to our house so my husband could help him with a school project. Caleb,our grandson, was making a DNA strand. Our entire family had gone to Disney World in August and Caleb wanted the strand to be made up of Mickey Mouse profiles. He and my husband went out back, put newspaper on the concrete drive and were spraying styroform balls with black spray paint. I was fixing supper. My youngest daughter dropped by to have a cup of coffee. She brought a computer printout of DNA strands. At 6:30 she started to leave to pick up her husband and 4 year old and go to supper. She got to the end of the drive way and heard Caleb yell, "Grand Daddy!" She said she knew something was badly wrong by the sound in his voice. She couldn't see her father only Caleb. She had a cell phone in her hand and as she ran down the drive she started dialing 911. Caleb ran across the drive to the kitchen door and called me saying "Something's wrong with Grand Daddy" He turned around and went back to my husband. I followed them out and saw my husband on his back on the driveway. My daughter was beside him, talking on the phone with the ER squad and trying to find a pulse. I went down on my knees beside him and the minute I saw him I knew he was dead. I doubled up my fist and hit him in the chest and air came out instead of in. The ER squad arrived in only three minutes after we made the call. I was calm, cold and detached, just as I was when our 17 year old son died in an accident 27 years ago. I tried to calm my daughter and Caleb but explain to them that he wasn't going to be alright. Well, he was alright in Heaven but he wasn't in his body. When our son, Frank, died we both thought that was the worst thing that could happen to anyone and I still do but this is real close. My husband and I met in the fourth grade and went together all through school. We married at 18 and 19, had three children, 2 daughters and our son, and a great marriage. After Frank died I went to college, got a graduate degree and became a counselor, work with a lot of grief cases. We were facilatators of Compassionate Friends, support group of bereaved parents, for six years. I am lucky that both my daughters live in the same community I do. I have three grandsons and we have always been a very close family. I remember vividly what the grief felt like in the early stages with Frank and and I keep trying to compare but it has been 27 years. I do feel comforted by the fact that Frank and Tim are together but this is devastating.