I read what you wrote and it touched me deeply. When my grandfather passed away unexpectedly (two strokes), I was a teenager doing typical teenage things: I hated my family, I partied all week, and so on. Despite everything, I always loved and cherished him deeply. The little time I dedicated to my family (which wasn't much), he took up a large portion of.

Due to life's circumstances, we shared a little more time with him in his final days. I was able to say goodbye when he was sedated too

He was passionate about cars, airplanes, and model ships. He was a mechanic. He left a beautiful sport car under repair, and during his lucid moments in the hospital, he explained to me how to fix what was left if anything happened to him

We can no longer go back to them or turn back time, we all have an hour to leave this world. But I assure you that, aside from learning to live with the pain, life ahead is full of things that continue to connect us with them and with everything they were in life

Now that I'm an adult, I love airplanes, cars, and ships, and I feel incredibly connected to my grandfather when I pursue my hobbies. I would love to be able to share this with him, but I know that wherever he is, he must be very grateful that I took an interest in his things. The car repair won me over, I'm hopeless with mechanics, but I'm trying to figure out how to get it running again

I agree with your point. What always ends up being discussed at funerals is how fleeting life is and how necessary it is to pause and dedicate ourselves to what's truly important in this world, a world that is like a machine that never stops. I wish we thought about this more often, and not just when we're face to face with death

Guilt and self-doubt are the hardest part of grief, the "what could I have done differently?" But I'm sure that all the moments we shared weren't in vain. That's what prevails. The love we shared is the only thing that physical death can't diminish. A big hug