My great grandmother, who I called Nana, passed away when I was 5. My parents told me that she slipped on a patch of ice when she was unloading the groceries out of her trunk, hit her head and went into a coma. When I was 13, my older brother thought I was mature enough and deserved to know, so he told me the truth. She was walking home from the grocery store, with the bags in her arms. She was jumped and beaten. They took everything that was on her person and they left her there, in the freezing cold. She went into a coma and died later on. I've never told anyone this ever. I had to get it out.