Not one tear

I loved my grandpa, but I never shed a tear the day he died
I guess we all saw it coming, so we never even cracked a sob
We were depressed of course but we knew it was going to happen

My grandfather was a drunk, a smoker, and he digraced his life
But when we came to visit, he was always sober, polite, and loving
That's one of the reasons I loved him so much, he was always considerate around us

One day I heard my dad and my grandpa arguing that grandpa should go to the hospital
He had a lump in his throat that kept growing, and it was hard for him to breathe
My grandpa refused to go, and just let the lump grow

One day, it got so bad, he couldn't breathe
And that is when my grandma put her foot down
But we all knew it was too bad to cure

A few days later, my dad got a phone call
It was his brother telling him that their dad, in a few days, had to be moved to a hospis, a place where the dying go
I had a broken heart, but my father didn't cry at all

We went down to Mesa, to see my grandpa one last time
He couldn't talk, and he only weighed seventy-five pounds
We got to talk to him for five minutes, but then we left

Two days later they finally moved him to a hospis
But it was already too late
He died the next day

I didn't cry when I learned he had died
I assumed he had himself excepted death
I felt pain, loss, and depression
But I didn't shed a tear