When I heard the news of my grandfather’s impending death, my heart dropped. For years now he had been my idol, and the one person who genuinely understood me. He taught me countless lessons but none would be as great as the one I learned following his death. He was strong and inspirational, and adored by everybody who knew him. His stories memorized me and his willpower enchanted me. He was everything I aspired to be, but now my hero was collapsing.
On August 22, 2007, my grandfather got a call about his latest blood work. He had felt sick for a while but the doctors were unable to give him an answer up until this point. They knew the news was not good, but neither of them had expected this. Doctor’s informed them that my grandfather had stage four lung cancer. Although they could do chemo, doctors warned my grandparents that my grandfather was lucky to live for six more months. It was a long drive home for them, neither of them spoke. My grandparents knew that once they got home, they would have to notify everybody of the appalling news and they would have to begin the fight, together.
When my family heard the news, we were stunned. I didn’t know how I was going to cope with the loss of my grandfather. I began to shut down and block people out of my life. I disabled my emotions from being shown and “stayed strong” for the people around me. My mother tried to get me to open up but how was I to open up when my life was falling apart. My grandfather had been such an influence on my life and I felt as though God was taking him away from me. I saw this as unfair and cruel and lost all faith.
At first, I went and saw him frequently. But as the months dragged on, my grandfather grew weaker and I couldn’t justify seeing him like that. He surpassed the six months that the doctors had...