The worst wait of all
We're waiting. My wife and I. She is more than me. I'm essentially ballast. The support team. Like the track marshals at an auto race waiting for disaster so they can rush in to assist the survivors. My wife's grandfather has cancer. It's everywhere and it's terminal. The hospice nurse told us that he has a matter of weeks. Less than a month to be sure. He sleeps most days and has little to no appetite. His spirits vary from denial to anger to passivity. He still has a laugh here or there. Usually reserved for my kids. His only great grandchildren. He's 85 years old and finally starting to look it. He left school after 8th grade to take care of the family when his father died. The war came and he went to the Pacific Theater for some nasty fighting that he recaps with one line: "I fought those Japs. They're a bunch a bastards." Any further questions are met with a stare like he just explained the situation and isn't clear on ...