I was only 13 when on, April 7th 2009, I learned that my Grandad had brain cancer. I was scared, extremely scared. I didn't want to lose him. A week later he had surgery to remove as much of it as possible. A couple of days later we got the results and we were told he had 3 to 12 months to live. I was even more scared but I knew I would have some time with him at least.
8 months later he passed away, a week before my birthday. I had been expecting it for about a week but I was in shock. It didn't sink in. I was waiting for him to walk back in my life, and he wouldn't.
Most nights I cried myself to sleep and after a while it stopped. But now it's started again. I've realised that despite what people say, I have to grieve. I can't turn it off for them. I miss you Grandad and I love you so much.