My grandfather is dying.
What's worse is we *just* found out. They found a tumor in his guts the other day. They had surgery yesterday but couldn't get at it because it's embedded in his pelvis. They say it will soon spread to the kidneys, which pretty much means he's a goner.
What's worse is his dementia. He thinks everyone else is crazy and doesn't remember he even has this condition.
He's the only grandfather I knew growing up. My dad's father died when I was like, three. He always had lots of family stories to tell about his family. He was a unifying force and one of the biggest reasons why my mom's extended family is so tight.
I've never really dealt with a death in the family. I was either too young or the relative was too distant for me to feel much. So it's interesting that at 33, I'm actually starting to deal with grief. On the one hand, I feel like I've missed something, and I'm sad that I won't have the chance to talk with my grampa again. On the other hand, he's lived a long life. He's around 88 and lived well. Now that his mind and body are both going, maybe it's for the best that he's going. I think it will be very hard on gramma. Though at least she has one of her daughters living with her to keep her company.
Anyway, I'll be a bit moody today, is all.