Broken Heart

My grandfather just had a heart attack. Well, correction, my grandfather had a heart attack nearly 48 hours ago, but for reasons which I will refrain from ranting about now, no one bothered to tell me until 30 minutes ago. So really, I just learned that my grandfather had a heart attack.

My grandfather is 90 years old, and in better shape than most people I know my own age. He lives along a golf course and walks the entire length every day, collecting lost golf balls for my father. He uses the cardio equipment in his retirement home. He walks to the grocery store instead of driving. He makes very healthy food decisions, is not a smoker, and only drinks on occasion. He is in such great shape, the past two times he has had surgery, his recovery has taken less than a third of the time he was told it would take, to the shock and amazement of his surgeons. My grandfather has always been indestructible, and at his last physical, was told that he should easily live to be well over 100.

My grandfather just had a heart attack. He isn't a candidate for stents and the surgeon thinks he is too old to undergo bypass. He was essentially told today that his heart is a ticking time bomb -- they can't predict when, but he'll have a massive heart attack and drop dead.

And do you know what he said in response? That all he wants is to live one day longer than his wife, so she never has to be alone for a single day.

I think my mean old heart of coal just broke in two.

My grandfather, brightening my world since 1983.