It’s already been a few weeks since we reluctantly started your final countdown. No one lives forever—I know that. But in my little girl’s heart, I believed we still had plenty of time ahead of us.
A few weeks ago, I heard the words: tumor, cancer, metastasis. I remember hearing my heart break. I’d known for some time that you weren’t doing well. But part of me was in denial, refusing to admit that eventually I’d have to let you go.
I’m not ready, and I probably never will be. Our family has already faced enough hard times in recent years. I thought we might have a little while where the waves would stop trying to capsize our boat.
I’m not ready to let go of the man who has been my rock my whole life. I’m not ready to explain to the kids that you’ve gone to be with your wife. I’m not ready to have to be strong for them. I’m not ready to watch the man I consider my father leave. You’re the best grandfather anyone could ever dream of having. My little girl’s heart wants to keep believing that you’ll stay a little while longer, so we can still have more quality time together.
I watch the days go by without being able to slow down time. It slips through my fingers without me being able to do anything about it. In the coming days, you’ll start your chemotherapy treatments, and it will all become more and more real. But for now, let me live in denial a little longer.
Selfishly, please stay a little longer. Simply because I love you.