Six years ago today, early in the morning, my mom and my grandpa left our house at 5:30 to go to the hospital for Grandpas surgery. He was to have 1/3 of his lung removed due to what the doctors thought was lung cancer. I woke up at 5:50 as usual that morning to get ready for school. As I was about to leave the house, I felt a force draw me back in. I suddenly felt the urge to call him and wish him luck. Thanks for calling, Ry, he said. But Ill be fine! I smiled. I love you, Grandpa, I told him. Love you, too! Have a great day at school! I hung up and left. Later that night, after what I was told was a successful surgery, I called him to congratulate him. He sounded so out of breath, like he had just run the NY marathon. I told him I loved him, and he told me the same. He said he would talk to me tomorrow. That was the last time I ever heard his voice.
Posted on: Wed, 10 Sep 2014 16:26:35 +0000
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