When it rains, it pours. Tonight I got a call from my father, who told me that my last grandparent, his mother, had died last night. She had been physically and mentally infirm for a few years, and her death was not unexpected. For her, it was a release from pain and confusion, and thank god for that.

But I feel so sorry for my dad. He had planned to leave to visit his mother this week, but now his final trip takes a much different turn. We talked on Saturday, and he was so looking forward to seeing his mom again, knowing that it was probably the last time he would see her alive. And he's been robbed of that. I don't think there was anything left unsaid, no loops to close, but I feel for him, and I just wish he had been able to say his goodbyes as he wanted.

I was never the best grandson, and when I finally realized that, my grandmother wasn't in a position to notice. This will go down as one of the greatest regrets of my life, that I wasn't a better person for the people I cared most about, when it counted.