Photo by Matthew T Rader on Pixel
My grandfather died yesterday. He was sick. Asthma, hernia, and his lungs and heart were really giving him a hard time. And he couldn’t go on surgery unless his asthma stabilizes.
I had gone to visit him at evening before his death. We talked and made plans that if by Monday the sickness persists then I’d take him to hospital, again.
I had grown fond of him these past two months. I checked on him, took him to hospital and even admitted him, the he was released. I checked on him more.
That evening I visited he said that he was tired. I brushed it off, pretending I didn’t hear him say it. I even recommended some sleeping positions to help with his breathing. After some chat I bid him farewell and we all agreed that Monday we’d see other again.
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