Hey, y'all...

I made it to Illinois just fine. I even slept on my flights. Amazing.

Anyway, Grandpa decided to have his IV taken out yesterday. He's not eating or drinking much of anything - just a few tablespoons a day at most. So the IV was the only thing keeping him hydrated. Hopefully, anytime now, he'll simply go to sleep and not wake up.

I'm much better with that idea now that I'm home. Now that he has told me, face to face, that he wants to die. He's ready, and I'm ok with that.

That doesn't mean my heart won't be broken once it finally happens, of course. But I'll be crying for me, not for him. Know what I mean?