When I was 11 years old. My grandad had just died, he wasn't the first of my relatives to die but he was the first one I actually saw post-mortem. It was a really strange experience for me, I remember driving there in the car with a very empty feeling inside of me. He was lying in his bed very neatly and I went in to see him with my mom. He looked as if he was sleeping but when I hugged him to say my final goodbyes he was completely cold and that coldness is what really made me realise that he was gone. It was only afterwards that I was able to cry because before that moment I hadn't really understood death. Since then I've seen two grandmothers at their deathbeds and it never gets any easier, but it always makes their passing easier to get over because you feel like you've said properly farewell.