Like a skeleton, with skin draped over the bones. His head, full of thick gray hair, still holds a small black presence of what it used to be. His ribs slowly press their way up and down; they are the only sign that life still resides in this shriveled man. He falls in and out of sleep as though tired from some long journey. His eyes, though unseeing, still twitch from behind half drawn lids. His slumber, once peaceful, now seems haunted and short. This once great man now lies confined to a bed as the end draws near. This hollow shell of a man I once knew, now only resembles the jolly man I called grandpa. All his experiences, his thrills, his sorrows, his life's dreams, and accomplished goals are all somehow lost as he begins to board his final train home. It's hard to imagine this once great man came from dust and soon shall return. My only hope is his passing is painless and joyful as he walks toward that final brilliant light that will welcome him home.