The Last Time I Saw You...

...I was in a hurry that morning, rushing out the door to catch the school bus. I was ten, almost 11, and had never been touched by heartache, pain, or death. You were lying in your bed, where you had been for weeks. I knew you were sick, I just didn't know HOW sick. You tried to sit up when I came to your doorway. You were always so happy to see me. You managed to prop yourself up onto one shoulder and you smiled, waved, and said, "bye-bye, sweetheart."

You went in the hospital later that day, for more tests was what I was told.

That night, as I lay in my bed feeling safe and certain of my world, you passed away in your sleep.

Nothing has ever been the same since. I swear the sun doesn't shine as brightly as it did before. I still miss you every day. I can't talk about you without feeling like I'm ten-years-old again, hearing the awful news. I wish I had known that that morning would be the last time (for a while) that I would see you. I would have stayed and sat on the edge of your bed. I would have told you all the things I have been holding inside my heart since that day. I would have said I love you and told you "thank-you" for loving me. I would have told you that you were the best grandfather in the world and my very best friend. I would have told you, above all else, not to worry about me, that I am so much stronger than I realize. I will make it through this world, always trying to hang onto what's important - love, hope, GOD - and I will see you again in a little while.