Thanks for sharing, everybody. *hugs* I felt so silly bawling my eyes out when I had barely thought about it in years.
My grandpa was a big hillbilly and was proud of it. I use that term because, well, that's what we all called him. He was very uneducated and had some crazy ideas about the world. But he was also an amazing person like no one else I've ever met. He loved his family. He worked hard his whole life. He could be a jerk, but he could be the most caring and giving person in the world. He's hard to explain in a nutshell.
Anyway, he smoked his whole life and ate way too much, too. He got sick several times, first because of his weight and eating habits (he also ended up with diabetes), but he got over it eventually. He didn't exactly slim down, but he got better. Then he got lung cancer. He recovered maybe a year later after chemo and whatnot. But he got it again later. He was in intense pain all the time and was on morphine constantly. It was painful to watch. He was stuck in a hospital bed for months off and on before he died.
The good thing about it was that he and my mom repaired their relationship before he was gone. They never got along and argued frequently. He always acted like he hated her. Man, I could write a book about his life...aaaanyway, toward the end, they got to where they talked all the time and really loved each other.
I still hold a bit of a grudge toward my dad, though. He wouldn't let me stay at my grandpa's the week before he died. He said "You can stay next weekend." I had barely seen him in months, but my dad didn't like or trust him (my dad's paranoid and an all around weirdo). And that weekend, my grandpa was gone. Never quite got over that. I felt bad for my cousin, too, because her wedding was two days later and there was sort of a cloud hanging over the whole occasion.
Okay, sorry, EXTREME TEXT WALL. I can't stop once I get on something I need to talk about. Haha.