My maternal grandfather died this past Saturday evening. When my paternal grandfather passed away, I was very calm, cool and collected. I had to be; I was bestowed the honor of giving the eulogy. This time, however, I was given an honor far greater. Don't expect me to be calm, cool and collected, though. It's just not going to happen.

My grandfather was in hospice for about a week. Everyone in the immediate family had their chance to say their goodbyes. I tried to make it there everyday to visit both him and my grandmother, who rarely left his side.

My mother's only wish was that my grandfather didn't die alone. He didn't; I was with him.

Saturday was jam packed day for Brooke and me. Our long house-hunting escapade came to and end and we finally found the perfect home for us. By the time we put in the offer, we both had to go to work. All day I had a strange feeling that my grandfather was going to pass away and I wasn't going to be there.

It was a slow night at work, so I decided to call my parents around 8:00 pm to check on my grandfather. There was no change in his condition and he was expected to make it through the night. My Dad told me not to worry and that he would see me in the morning. Since it was so slow at the bar, I was able to leave work around 9:30. Brooke and I had plans to celebrate our new purchase after she got off of work around midnight, so I figured I would go pay the old man a visit just to check on him.

I pulled up to the assisted living facility around 10:20 pm and I did not see my parents' car. Thinking that was strange, I raced to the front door trying to avoid the rain as well as the empty feeling in my stomach. My grandfather was going to pass away and I was going to be the only one there. I knew it. I could feel it.

On my way to the room, I spoke with his nurse and she updated me on his condition. My parents, who went home to eat and change, had just called 10 minutes earlier to check on my grandfather's condition and told the nurse that they would be back with my grandmother soon. His condition remained the same. I walked into room, sat in my grandfather's recliner and watched the History Channel. Within minutes, I called Brooke in tears, which is uncharacteristic for me. Something just wasn't right. I told her that I was spending the night with my grandfather because I didn't want him to be alone. I was only in the chair for 5 minutes.

And then it happened. I turned and looked at my grandfather and our eyes met. It was quick, but it seemed like an eternity. I ran to get the nurse, who then instructed me to immediately call my grandmother and parents. Sensing the urgency in my voice, my father went to pick up my grandmother while my mother drove straight to the facility in the worst storm we've seen in months.

I helped the nurse as best I could, following her instructions. She gave my grandfather some medication to calm him down, and then told me exactly what was going to happen as my grandfather passed away, and showed me the best place to check for his pulse. She then left the room to give us some privacy. Sitting with him and saying a prayer, I was honored to be the one to see him off.

After a few minutes alone with grandfather, my mother arrived, then my grandmother and father, followed by the rest of the family.

Saturday night and the days that followed were easily the most difficult that I've ever had. I experienced something that most people never have or will, or even want to, for that matter. If anyone was to be with him, however, I'm glad it was me.

Mixed with emotion and not even sure how to deal with this experience, I made a video for everyone in the family. I don't know if it will help them, but it definitely helped me.

Love you, Pop. You were quite a guy.