I forgot how it hurts

I forgot what it feels like to know that someday very soon you will have to say good bye to someone you love so very dearly. I forgot how it starts in your chest and grows until it continues up thru the tightness of your throat  and into your head. I forgot how it begins to swell there, until you feel its pressure between your ears and behind your eyes. I forgot how then the tears come and with the tears that pressure is released, but that very real pain remains.
I forgot how it hurts. After all it's been nearly 20 years since I have had to say good bye to someone that I love this much. I forgot. But I remember now.

A few weeks ago, my 88 year old grandpa was diagnosed with cancer on his lungs, the type of cancer that is commonly associated with exposure to asbestos. Grandpa was a carpenter all his life. The cancer is very aggressive and there isn't anything to be done but to keep him comfortable. When I first got the news, I had a good cry, but I knew that grandpa would be at peace with this diagnosis. I knew that he was ready to move on to the next life, a new adventure. I knew that grandma would also be at peace with this, she's been near death a few times herself and every time she has been ready to go, but it hasn't yet been her time to leave us. My grandparents have been a perfect example of faith. They know death is not the end, just a door to the next step to becoming more like our Father in Heaven. So I was at peace, my biggest fear was watching him deteriorate as the cancer took over his body.
 I've been there before. When I was 20 years old, my grandpa Paxman was near the end of his long battle with cancer. I had watch over the years as the cancer had turned my strong farmer grandpa, into a frail old man. Watched as it ate away at him until it made him look much older than his 72 years. Watched as I sat beside his hospital bed. Watched as it caused him to writhe in pain just days before he was finally released from his mortal frame. I watched, and I cried, and I prayed that he could just be released from this awful pain. I watched, but never touched. I watched, but never reached out my hand to just hold his. And all these twenty years, I have wished I had done differently. I have wished that as I sat there watching, I had not let the fear I felt keep me from holding him one last time.
And here I find myself again, watching the cancer transform my strong cowboy grandpa into a feeble shell of a man. My fear now is that he will be gone before I get a chance to sit by his side and hold his hand one more time. I keep telling myself sooner rather than later will be better. The less he has to be in pain, the better. I keep telling myself, but myself keeps wanting just one more visit. One more chance to hold him. One more opportunity to tell him that I love him. One more moment to hear his amazing stories. One more memory created. One more...Oh how it hurts to think about saying good bye.