My grandpa died of thyroid cancer. I helped him complete his last round of radiation therapy before the cancer took over, and it was a very sad, very special time for both of us.
I remember my grandpa coming to my house to help me prune roses during his treatment and how very sweet those few hours were because we both knew he might never help me do that again. I remember him telling me stories of his youth, and me listening for probably the first time because I knew that I might never hear those stories again. My grandpa dying of cancer brought us together for a few short, sweet months in a way that nothing else had ever been able to do.