7 years

Boy does time fly. It sounds so cliche, but it's so true.

My grandfather passed away 7 years ago today. A little story.

Grandpa died on a Wednesday night. He starting showing signs of weakness the weekend before and I headed to Gainesville to spend time with him. I was there until Tuesday when I decided I needed to go back to Jacksonville to recharge and repack for the next couple of days. I was going to head back Thursday morning. My dad wanted to go see my Grandpa and say his goodbye and really wanted to me to go with him, but I was tired and just wanted to rest. Somehow he talked me in to going with him. Wednesday afternoon we headed that way.

I fully believe that God had a plan that Wednesday. If not for my dad wanting to go see my Grandfather I would not have been there when he went to heaven. I'm so thankful that I decided to go. I was able to give him his last dose of morphine to make him comfortable. I was able to tell him that everything we would be okay when he was gone. I was able to kiss my Grandpa and tell him I love him one last time.

7 years? I still remember it like it was yesterday.

I miss him.