In the summer of 2010 my grandfather was diagnosed for the final time with melanoma cancer. He had three incidents of it before but never as aggressive as this time. It was understood early on that with his other medical conditions the fight would probably be as painful and stressful as the cancer itself. When given the choice to start chemo and radiation again or to go fishing, my grandfather got his tackle and pole ready and set out to enjoy the remaining time he had left.
The family was told and over the next several months all the children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, other relatives, and longtime friends made their way to his house to spend as much time as we could together. Trips to Lake Nocona for some bass fishing or up to Oklahoma for Dr. Peppers at his favorite little casino were the norm. In late October when he could no longer make those trips with us, we decided it was time to call hospice. Continue reading