I'm afraid we have some bad news

"I'm afraid we have some bad news."

I'm wasn't expecting any bad news, but when I read this in an email from my mum, it hit me hard. I could feel my eyes widen and a shot of adrenaline straighten my spine. I guessed the severity of the news before reading another word. It's funny how you can sense how bad it is just by reading text. No facial expressions or tone of voice to judge. Maybe my mind had already subconsciously read the rest of the paragraph to prepare myself...

But I wasn't prepared. My mum told me that Grandpa had 8-18 months left to live. All the work he did with asbestos finally caught up with him, and he has developed inoperable cancer in the wall of his lung.

I guess I didn't really learn much, today. My Grandpa has lived to a ripe old age (80+), and, as we all know, people die when they get old. If he didn't die of the cancer, he'd die of something else eventually. In fact, he could die of something totally unrelated during the 8-18th months. All I learned is that Grandpa has a maximum of 18 months left to live.

I couldn't really concentrate for the rest of the day. I took a nice long stroll in my favourite thinking park (Bute Park) and tried to work out why I was so upset about this. I don't think I should be upset about him dying, I mean, everyone does it and something really good might happen to him after life. And I shouldn't feel upset as one of the people he's leaving behind because we will carry on fine without him. I think the worst part is saying goodbye.

I cannot even begin to think of a way to say goodbye. How could I ever get across my love and respect, and how much I'll miss him? I went to buy a card for him, that was hard enough. I saw things like:

"Get well soon!" --- not going to happen...
"With sympathy" --- so miserable!
"Goodbye, sorry you have to go!" --- for people getting a new job, I know, but it broke my heart. I felt myself welling up in the store.

It really scares me. Having such a finite time left. I think that I would be in a desperate panic for the duration. What did I always want to do? Who must I express my love for? What lose ends must I finish before I can hang up my coat?

It's been playing on my mind, hard. I see things so insignificant that I usually take for granted, then I imagine if I were in Grandpa's shoes how everything would be so sacred and precious. Every tiny scrap of life. I can feel myself clinging onto them with my fingernails as I'm being pulled under. People always tell you that you should love life. But I think if you love life too much, you may suffer from a horrifying fear of death.

But deep down, I'm sure he's in a settled state and I'm sure he's ready as one can be. And he's free now to look at all of those sacred scraps of life and smile and let go.

And, as for saying goodbye... I hope he knows how much I love him and how much I'll always miss him.