Roger

            The boys nodded.

            "Do you two always do everything in unison?" She laughed.

            Neither boy spoke, unable to process humor.

            "So, Roger doesn't get out of bed these days. He sleeps a lot, which is a totally normal part of the dying process."

            Eli gulped at the word 'dying'.

            "He is very weak, sometimes talking is difficult for him. But he really likes it when your mom, Kat and us girls talk to him."

            "Why doesn't he get out of bed anymore?" Brad asked.

            "He's at a point where it causes too much distress to get up and he's made the decision that he's more comfortable in his bed."

            Eli jumped in now, "Can't he get those sores from laying in bed?"

            Nellie nodded without missing a beat, "Yes. We are doing what we can to reposition him as he tolerates but at his stage sometimes they're inevitable. But we're doing all we can to keep him from getting to that point. With him being our only patient all day, it makes it a lot easier to keep an eye on his skin." Nellie looked between them, giving them a moment to fire off more questions. "What other questions do you have? I'm here all day if you have questions after your visit."

            Brad shook his head and mumbled something before heading into the bedroom.

            Eli tried to get a glimpse of his grandpa before Brad shut the door, but was unable to. He looked at Nellie again, a tear skimmed down his cheek. He cleared his throat, "Is he mad at us?"

            Nellie shook her head, "No, he's not mad at you." She made her mouth shut before telling him that they'd effectively shattered his heart. That no matter what she or Lynda said, a part of his heart had been broken by his boys. She didn't tell him that he sobbed until he couldn't breathe. That on days when he was too broken to cry he just stared out of the windows. As angry as Nellie was with these two, she knew that it was vital that they come here. They'd have the rest of their life to live with what they did.

            "Why is he still here? Mom said he hasn't eaten anything in days."

            "He needed you to come say goodbye and tell him that it's okay."

            Eli gaped at her, "Tell him what is 'okay'?"

            "That it's okay for him to die. That you'll be okay when he dies."

            "He said that?"

            Nellie shrugged, "He didn't explicitly say it. But it's what pretty much every dying person needs to hear."

            Eli nodded, "Thank you, Nellie. I'm sorry for," he trailed off. Desperately searching for the right word.

            Nellie smiled, "You're not the first family member to question me and you're certainly not the last." She went over to the kitchen table and began typing on her tablet.

            Eli looked over at Kat who had taken a seat in the family room. Eli studied the room, everything looking exactly the same but feeling so different. He noticed the lack of vacuuming lines in the carpet, no wood in the holder near the fireplace, no grandpa in the worn leather chair at the head of the room.

            "Did mom make you come?" Kat was sitting in her designated spot, Eli noticed. Kat, Roger's 'golden girl', had always sat on the equally worn leather sofa in the spot closest to Roger's chair. Brad had always sat at the far end of the same sofa as Kat, leaving one cushion between them. Eli found himself on the ground sitting next to Roger's chair. He didn't realize he'd even sat down.

            "Mom called me last night. She told me the exact date I'd last come to see grandpa and couldn't believe it had been that long. She asked what I'd want if I were in grandpa's shoes. Brad pulled up after I got here."

            Kat looked down at nails, the polish was chipped and bitten down. "He'll be happy to see you guys."

            Eli stared at the carpet, suddenly remembering that there had been a rug here. "What happened to the rug?"

            Kat stared at him, shaking her head, "They took it out when he was doing physical therapy. It was tripping him up." Kat looked past Roger's chair and out of the window.

            Brad stepped into his grandfather's room and immediately felt his heart drop into his stomach. His grandfather lay in a hospital bed, the head and feet elevated, and his frail, thin body lay very still and limp. His chest rose and fell mechanically, several seconds between each breath. His hair was messy and oily tendrils spilled over his forehead and cheek. Brad took a deep breath before forcing himself forward.

            The closer Brad got to the bed, the waxier his grandfather's body looked. He didn't look real. His skin was so pale it was purple in places. Brad took a seat next to his grandfather and stared at him, not knowing what to say or do. He started to take another deep breath but his breath caught and a few rogue tears slid down his cheek. He tried to force the tears back, but that only led to more tears. He slammed his eyes shut and cleared his throat. He dropped his head into his chest and sobbed silently. He suddenly felt something touch his hand.

            "Hey, gramps." Brad choked out. He reached out and enveloped his grandfather's icy, purple-tinted hands.

            Roger smiled, and began to speak but a cough came instead. He groaned and winced.

            "Do you need something? Should I get Nellie?" Brad began to stand but felt his grandfather using what little strength he had to pull him back to his seat. Brad slowly sat back down and waited for his grandpa to say something.

            "It'll make me sleep." His voice was airless and raspy.

            "You need your rest. I can come back if you're in too much pain or whatever."

            Roger smiled, "No you won't."

            Brad felt the words hit him like a ton of bricks. He opened his mouth multiple times to speak, but nothing came out. He'd been a terrible grandson. He'd abandoned his grandfather in his time of need.

            Roger gave Brad's hand a squeeze, "I'm ready to die."

            His words startled Brad. He had no idea what to say, his only thought was to tell him not to, but how could he?

            "I wanted to see you and your brother first." He looked to the ceiling and took a few labored breaths, "I wanted to say goodbye."

            A few more tears skimmed down Brad's face as he nodded. "I'm sorry, gramps. I should've been here."

            Roger studied Brad. Brad had grown a beard, grown his hair out a bit and put on some weight since the last time he'd seen him.

            "I'm gonna miss you, gramps." Brad's head dropped into his chest again.

            Roger squeezed his hand, "I love you, Brad."

            Brad leaned in to hug Roger, "I love you too, grandpa." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Colonel Roger Carver died July 10th, 2006 surrounded by his daughter, Heather Carver, his grandchildren, Brad, Kathleen 'Kat' and Eli Carver. He fought a brave battle against pancreatic cancer for three years. Roger is preceded in death by his wife, Kathleen 'Kathy' Carver.

            Roger was a beloved father, grandfather, mentor and friend. He enjoyed building plane models with his grandchildren and reading.