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no more suffering My grandpa died today. I saw him yesterday and a small part of me knew that it might be the last time that I would see him alive. My dad, my uncles and I were all standing around his bed just waiting and watching. We laughed as much as we could. We would talk when he couldn't. Other members of my family had already been there and I was one of the last to arrive. They were happy to see me and I them, but we all knew why we were there. I was surprised at how calm my dad was at the time, but then again he had been there for days already and maybe some kind of acceptance had set in. He was direct and honest about what was happening. He had been told by the doctor that my grandpa had somewhere between two days and two weeks to live. My grandma called it a deathwatch. I know that it sounds morbid, but at the same time it was true. He knew that he was dying and so did she. She went on to say that he had said that this would be his last summer so he must have known for a while that he was fading away.
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