You're so strong, it amazes me. Not necessarily in the physical sense, but more the emotionally and mentally one.
For instance, in early May of 2001, you suffered from a major heart attack. I was only a year old, almost two; I was too young to remember anything. The doctor's sat down with my grandma and explained to her that you were going to die, that there was a 0.0001% chance that you would live. They only thing they could do would be to try to patch your heart, but it had never worked with any of the other patients before, they had all died.
It seemed like you were a lost cause.
They went through with the operation anyway, despite the fact that you would probably die anyway.
But there's the thing; you didn't die. The doctors named you a medical miracle, the operation saved you.
You were left with only 10% of your heart left.
You pulled through, Grandpa, and I'm glad you did. I have so many memories of you now.
You went through multiple heart attacks and strokes since the operation. They left you in bad shape, but you kept pulling through. A recent one, though, had left you in worse shape than ever. You could barely walk, you couldn't hear unless we practically yelled it, and you talked less and less. This, was the time that scared me.
I was your only granddaughter, out of seven grandchildren, and I was the youngest, so we bonded more than you did with the guys. I spent many nights crying myself to sleep with worry that you wouldn't be able to pull through. But then I would think, You have to, you just have to. I mean, you've pulled through all the other times, surely you'll make it through this one, too.
This was around the time that you told me you loved me. You were never big on emotions, not even before you had your first heart attack. But now, you were telling me you loved me every time we left after coming to visit you. It was at this time that I finally realized it; you knew you were dying.
Grandpa, I love you, and I always will.