Mark's grandpa is passing away soon...

I was going to write about it, but I think what Mark had to say is so much more. I pray for both of them and all Mark's family.

My grandfather has always been a hero of mine. He was always so wise, so strong, and so smart. He knew how to do just about anything, make anything, or fix anything. He always had amazing stories of the things he had done, seen, and lived through. He taught me so much about how to live me life, how to treat people, and how cherish my family. I've never met a man with more love for his family than my grandfather.

I always knew he would not live forever. I'd lost my maternal grandparents many years ago. But you are really never prepared for it to happen. Deep down I knew that his health has been failing the last several years, but it was always easier to believe him when he said he was doing good. Even as talk of doctors appointments grew in frequency, I allowed myself to believe that he was just being more cautious.

When my dad told me it was cancer, it came as no surprise. I had been hoping for a miracle, but had already accepted the inevitable. I flew out to California to see him. To tell him I love him. I would not allow myself to become emotional in front of him. I knew he would not want that. That he would not be strong enough to take me breaking down, or talking about him dying. I wanted so much to tell him how much he means to me. How much I regret not being able to see him as much since moving to Utah.

When my maternal grandfather was dying, I had no job. I stayed by him and did what I could to make him comfortable in his last few days. My penance for all the times I had opted to stay home or go out with friends instead of going with my mother to visit him. Now as my paternal grandfather nears his final days, life seems to be throwing obstacles in my way. A week from today I'm to sign papers on the sale of my house and on the purchase of my new home. Then I have to move. This thing I've been hoping for, for almost a year now couldn't come at a worse moment.

Today at work I get the news that he's had a seizure. The cancer in his lungs and bones has moved into his brain. I don't want to be here at work, but I don't want to go home and cry in front of my children. They don't need to see their hero crying over the impending death of his.