75

My Grandpa would have turned 75 today. Two years ago today I sat with my family in the waiting room on the CCU floor listening to my family debate whether or not he was going to wake up and why we shouldn't let him go. I had my own set of opinions but I'm only a grandchild so they didn't really count. Personally I didn't think there could be much better birthday present then going home to be with you son, my Uncle Travis, and you Savior on you birthday. I can honestly say that week of my life was one of the very toughest I have ever had to go through. One of the worst things anyone could ever have to do is set around and watch someone you love lay unconscious, in pain, hovering near death for days. The other worst thing, having to be a part, even a small part, of the decision to let that person go. Thursday will be two years to the day that my Grandpa was moved to hospice and my family and I sat and watched him slip away. I want to tell him that I'm sorry if he had to suffer all those days that he laid there with all those machines hooked up to him. I want to tell him that I miss him. Most of all I want to tell him that I love him. Happy birthday, Grandpa.