My grandfather's death is eminent.
Frank, my mother's father, is a very good man, a bit cantankerous, with a quiet but sharp sense of humor. He has been dealing with his second bout of cancer for a little over a year and he has recently decided to stop chemotherapy. This is a conscious choice for a higher quality life. The doctors are unsure of exactly how much longer he will live. They say months, but most likely not a year.
This has given me the chance to re-evaluate how I feel about death, as a health practitioner and as a granddaughter. Death is not a bad thing to fight or run away from. Death is the natural conclusion of life. I am glad that he is going off the chemo meds, even though I selfishly want him to hang in there and try to get into remission. They made him act odd, not at all like his normal self, on top of making him feel awful. So, I am glad that he has decided that he should enjoy himself during the time he has left and really be alive. My mama said that when she saw him the other day and gave him a Reiki treatment, his color was better and he was acting more like himself.
I want to go visit as soon as I can so that I can have a good conversation with him before he gets sicker. I am proud of him for going off the meds, but I am scared for my gramma and sad to think of what it will be like when he is no longer in my life, despite him being 2 states away. My other grandparents died when I hadn't seen them for months on end, thinking I would always have another chance to see them. I don't want to regret not seeing him one more time.
Rather than offer condolences, please do me the favor of giving your loved ones a hug.