You take care of my kids, or I'll get you in Hell.

His last words spoken to anyone on this earth. To my Grandmother. He is my ancestor, my blood, my Grandfather. My family's skeleton in the closet. He wrote to his brother before leaving this earth.

"By the time you read this I will have done a very terrible thing. I want you to do me a favor. Sell everything I got and some how give it to the kids. If you can take them to live with you and be a good dad to them. I tried and was doing a pretty decent job. (I thought.)
If you could possibly do this for me I will be eternally grateful. Tell the kids what happened and why. Never let the truth be buried from them. We are all part of the human race that doesn’t like to be lied too.
...Well, Joe this is it. I feel like I am going to pull up to the front lines. Tell everybody I pulled some boners in my life but I'll bet this is the last one. Tell mom I sure am cold sober too. But I have to have something before I do it.
With Brotherly Love, Bob."

He then proceeded to go to my Grandma's parent's house (my great-grandparents). There he planned to take my grandma and kill her where he would follow with suicide. However her parents fought him, and he shot both of them. My mom and four uncles were very young. However one of my uncles (I don't know which one) did witness the events.

My grandfather hit my grandma with the butt of the gun, causing her to fall down. He then called his family and told them what he had done. They pleaded with him to stop but he refused. He asked them to come pick the kids up so he could finish killing my grandma. They were unable to. My uncle cried out to his father to stop. He wouldn't. My uncle wanted to go with his father. Bob wouldn't allow it.

He looked at my grandma and said "You take care of my kids, or I'll get you in Hell." He then walked outside and when the police showed up, he shot himself in the head.

I have known about this for a while, though my family doesn’t talk about it. My mom has been searching for everything about that night and recently, she found his journal. It isn't long and only documents his last few days before he committed the act. I read what I could. His handwriting in the beginning is horrible. Almost looks as if a kid wrote it. Words are misspelled and sentences don't make sense. But by the end, it changes into amazing cursive that is too good for me to even read.

I still don't know why he did it. His diary talks about the "Truth" of why he left, the "Truth" of his actions but it makes no sense to me. My grandma will not talk about it. And I am afraid her secrets will die with her.

They say I look a lot like him. The picture above is of my grandparents on their wedding day. I never knew my grandfather. I only know him by pictures, the police report on the table downstairs, and his short diary that was hidden from us until now.