i just got off the phone with my grandfather. he and my grandmother are at the mayo clinic in rochester, where he will have surgery tomorrow to remove two more tumorous portions of his lungs.

he didn’t say much, which for my grandfather is actually saying a lot. if you know my grandpa gerald, you know that he could start a conversation with a brick wall. this worries me, because it’s the first time in my 22 years that i’ve ever seen my grandpa scared.

my mom’s dad (papa joe) died when i was in third grade, and i don’t really remember it that well. i remember him getting sick, i remember him being in the hospital for a long time, and then i remember going to his funeral. as far as my 9-year-old brain was concerned, he just kinda, well, left. i don’t remember crying very much; in fact, i really don’t remember much about it at all except for the afternoon that my mom picked kara and me up from school and told us that papa joe had died.

i guess what i’m trying to say is that for the first time in my life — at least the first time i can remember — i’m scared of losing someone. and not the silly “i can’t live without you, be still my beating heart” kind of losing. it’s finally hit me that someday, the only way to visit him will be to visit a 3x6x6 foot patch of earth somewhere in a cemetary in wisconsin. i wasn’t ready for that realization, nor am i now. there’s a chance, albeit a small one, that grandpa gerald might die tomorrow. i don’t know how to deal with that.

i need some time to work through this. if i seem particularly gloomy over the next few months, that’s probably why. i apologize in advance.

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I'm just this guy, you know?