Two months ago I was told by my grammy that my grampy was feeling a little sick. My uncle James went from Maine down to Florida to cook and clean and just to care for my grandparents. He was there for 2-3 weeks before my uncle David went down to replace my uncle James. While my uncle James was home I called him and finally got the truth of the situation. I was told that my grampy had inoperable bone cancer. I had to tell my mother and my brother what was going on since my grammy refused to tell us the truth. I understand that she was trying to protect us as we are all very close, but I feel that we had a right to know the truth. After I told my grammy that I knew what was going on, she was honest with me, just not my brother or my mother. On Monday the second of March I made my daily phone call to my grammy and was told that my grampy had a drs appt the next day. My wife then took over talking to my grammy and was told that my grampy was hurting so bad, and that we had no idea how long my grampy had. My wife mentioned to my grammy that hospice care might help because they can have a nurse come to the home and help administer iv pain medications to help my grampy feel better. She was told that my grampys dr and my grammy were already thinking about hospice care. On Tuesday the third I called my grammy around 6pm. Grammy said that an ambulance was there to take my grampy to the hospice. My mom, my wife, and I decided to leave that very night (in the middle of a Maine snowstorm) to drive to Florida and see my grandparents. My brother flew down on Friday. We arrived at my grandparents home on Thursday the fifth at 10pm. We were told to go straight to my grandparents home. We went to sleep after a very long drive. My grammy woke my wife before 7am on Friday the 6th and was told that my grampy had passed and that she had to go. My wife was given the task of telling me and my mother that my grampy was gone. We never got to say goodbye while he was still living and breathing. A couple of hours after my wife broke the news we were told to come to the hospice and say goodbye. My last memory of my grampy is of him cold, his mouth wide open as if he were gasping for air. My grandfather was more than a grandfather to me. He was like a father, he was my hero, and my role-model. I miss him so much every single day. I don't know how to cope. I don't know how to live without him. I am working with my therapist, but she can only do so much.