Grandpa Barton

I sat in University Choir marveling at the wonderful sound we happened to be producing that day. It had been a fairly good day up to this point. I had gotten my theory test back with a nice big "A" at the top. I had made to all of my classes and had just been in a generally good mood. This was about to change.
As I sat listening to Doc babble on about how we needed to have a unified vowel, something in my pocket began buzzing. This of course was my cell phone. I ignored it the first time, knowing that I obviously couldn't answer it in the middle of class. A minute or so later it went off again. I fought the temptation to pull it out and see who was calling, mainly because Doc was staring directly at me. Again just a few minutes later, it began ringing. As the phone vibrated yet again, I started getting a really bad feeling. I discretely pulled my phone out to see who it was, and as I opened it up I began feeling nauseous. It was my mother. She knew my schedule and would never call when I was in class, especially not three times in a row, unless there was something wrong. I didn't know what could be happening, but I knew it couldn't be good.
As much as I wanted to leave, I couldn't. So I sat and waited, not so patiently, feeling more and more sick as each minute passed. The end of class could not come soon enough. As Doc said, "Nice work today folks. See you tomorrow," I jumped from my chair, put away my music, and pulled out my phone as I sprinted out of the room.
As I slid open my phone, I revealed a text message reading, "Call me asap" from mom. I closed out of it a dialed her number. My heart raced as I waited for her to pick up. Finally she picked up. Her voice sounded uneasy and sniffles were interjected after every few words.
"Your grandpa isn't doing so well," she said as she began to break down, "You need to come home now or...." she paused for a moment, "or you might not get to see him," she finished as she continued bawling.
"I'll be there in forty minutes," I told her. I went to hang up, but then put the phone back to my face, which at this point was covered in tears. "Mom, tell him I love him," I said as I slid the phone closed and put it back in my pocket. I then raced across campus to my car, jumped in, and began speeding to Omaha.
As I drove, the reality of all this set in. His wife had passed away a little over year before, so we all knew that it was coming soon, but that didn't make us anymore ready. As I thought about all of the good times we had, I began bawling uncontrollably. The tears blurred my vision and made it slightly difficult to drive, but I kept going.
I finally arrived at the hospital. I found the closest spot, parked and ran across the lot. I hopped on the elevator and as soon as I got off saw the family. The look on everyone's faces said it all. I looked over at my mom. She was standing next to my grandma. Both of their faces were beat red and tears streamed down their faces. As I looked at them, they just shook their heads. I had arrived to late. He had passed away just a few minutes before I got off the elevator. I was devastated. I jumped into my mother's arms and broke down. I river of tears began flowing down my mother's shirt.
I told myself that I should have left class to answer that call. If I had I would have gotten to see my grandfather for one last time. That is one of my biggest regrets in life.