Hello. It's been a rough year. I lost my grandfather to terminal cancer today.
He used to curse a lot, but he always gave me money whenever he gets his pension. He doesn't like how I go out a lot after school but he'd still fetch me anyway. He loved sweets more than I do, so everytime I buy candy, I always have to hide the half portion away (to prevent him from getting diabetes).
The thing is, he hid what he felt for a over a year. Before the pandemic, he's already been feeling stuff hence he secretly went to check ups for scans, etc. When quarantine was established, he grew weaker and weaker. We force him to go to check ups but he'd always refuse.
Until we were too late; and like cancer's not enough, he got stroke. The hospital wasn't taking care of him properly, hence he got a severe bed sore (that in which needed a surgery but we decided not to because it will only give him more pain). The doctor in charge is yet to be punished for the lack of assistance.
And so we took him home from the hospital. We spent millions even though we know that he could leave us at any moment. And knowing my grandfather, if he could only speak (he couldn't any longer after the stroke), he'd curse us for spending too much. It's why he kept it a secret, because he didn't want to be a bother until his last dying breath.
But the thing is, no amount of money can ever equal to the value of a loved one's life.
When he left us, we didn't give a damn about the money we spent or the loan we have to pay. We were so grateful that even though it was short, we got to spend more time with him in his most vulnerable days. And he got to see us before leaving. I can't and don't want to imagine what it's going to be like if we had left him to die in the hospital.
I wish he's no longer in pain. I wish he's okay now.