Lung cancer is a cruel. The doctors never actually told my grandfather he had cancer. My aunt refused to let anyone TELL grandpa he had cancer. My grandpa wasn't a stupid man. He didn't need anyone to tell him, he knew. His cough, going through radiation treatments. Come on, the man was highly intelligent! He knew what radiation therapy was for, After all. he had my mom for a daughter- and she was a nurse.

My only regret is that the day he died, I was unable to see my grandpa in the hospital. I will never forget walking into the lobby of Cincinnati Jewish Hospital on Sunday morning and having my aunt meet my mother and me there and telling us not to go upstairs. "He's gone". That's all she said.

I was devastated. I loved my grandfather more than you could imagine.

People have perceptions of grandparents. My grandfather was something special. He was all of 5''2" inches tall. Had snow white hair and the cleared blue eyes. You would never know he was born in Russia, but came to the US via New York as a toddler, except for a slight NY accent. He loved his daughters and he loved his grandchildren.

He was proud of each of us and always had something special for each of us. Mom, although he never SAID it, was his favorite.( My aunts always said she was his favorite- and she was the oldest too.) He always referred to her as, "this is my daughter, Elaine, the nurse!" He was so proud of her, he wanted her to be nurse, and she became a nurse.

As for his grandkids, well, we were his grandkids. And each of us had a little something special he did each time he saw us. With me, he loved to squeeze my fingers together until I thought they would meld together. He knew just how long to hold them and then would let go, pull me close and hug me and give me a big kiss. He loved us so much.

Just thinking about him now makes me smile! biggrin