It started with a phone call, just a phone call before the rain.Mom was outside on the phone as if trying to keep a secret.Although I could hear her through the opened living room window.I could hear her weep which struck a cord on the worry volin.But still I watch the tv and held one of my siblings.  Just like that my father came to me and told me what had happened.A soldier has fallen.My  grandpa Mike who was a sniper in Desert Storm and the Vietnam War.I never really been one to cry when I was told about someone’s death.But raging waves crashed upon the shore threatened to tear me apart and that is when the storm hit.  The endlessly pouring grieving rain and the thundering sorrowful weeps.There in the middle of it all stood a lonely tree.The wind mercilessly clobbered the tree as  the rain ambushed the tree.But the tree held her grounds for she knew that she had to be strong.She knew that had to be strong for others so the tree buried her  pain.At least until the funeral came that is when she weeped and that lonely tree  is me.