My eyes hurt

I spend 80% of last night crying like a baby.
I went to visit my husband's grandfather. He is dying.
I refused to believe it until last Sunday. I saw it just bones and without being able to say more than a few monosyllables.
I got closer to his ear and I whispered "I love you". Then he opened his eyes with a lot of effort and whispered "I love you too". Just like 20 years ago did my own grandfather.

February 1985.
I was a child and I went to bed before everyone. They were talking in the kitchen. I was falling asleep and I heard him coughing. I got up and he was looking bad, and it was really thirsty so I picked a jar of plum juice that somebody left next to his bed and with a teaspoon I started giving him little sips until he seemed to feel a little better. He was just bones too, and in those days the anesthesia wasn't as good as these days and living with cancer in a rural area was close to hell. He didn't have flesh anymore and was so weak that passed more of his day in silence. His thorax was an empty space and you could almost see his spine from his front. And there I was, scared of not knowing if what I was doing was good, and happy of being able to be with him. As a child they tried to keep me out of his room as much as possible. He look at me, and with a strength that I don't know where it came from, he sat on his bed and huged me saying: "Mi nietecita!" which means "My little granddaughter". I was so happy that I didn't care of his dry skin smelling like the hospital, and I was so touch that I didn't want to leave him. I gave him some more juice and then my grandmother entered the room and sent me back to bed. She didn't know that he spent the little strength remaining in a hug for me. Next morning he had to got back to the hospital where a few weeks later he would die.

August 2004
Last night I was nervous. I didn't know what to tell Papaw. I didn't know if he would hear me or if he would understand me. I was talking to Mamaw, she also looks very tired. Then somebody called and I walked to Papaw's bed. He was watching TV and his arm, now showing every bone, was under his head. He looked a little better than last Sunday. I told him I wouldn't be able to be with him during the next two weeks so I didn't wanted him to do anything crazy during that period of time. He smiled and said a few words with extreme difficulty. He didn't want me stay far too long. And then Mamaw came and told me to leave. She wouldn't let me play with his hands like I used to do nor talk to him anymore. She said that he would get too excited and winded up and then would be terrible for his brain. He would have a terrible night with so much excitation. He didn't want me to leave and I didn't want to say goodbye, because I'm afraid that last night was the last time we could hold each other hands.