This was supposed to be a pretty good day. My dad was coming over to (try to) teach me some guitar, go see a movie, drink some booze. Just a lazy Saturday with dad.
Found out yesterday that his father isn't doing so well. I've probably only seen the guy a dozen or two times in my life, and dad isn't that crazy about him, but he is my grandfather. He's been pretty sick recently with a thyroid infection, then he wound up having a heart attack during a routine operation. They said if he hadn't been in a hospital when it happened, he probably wouldn't have made it. Dad's still coming over, and we'll go see him since his hospital is just across town; when he called this morning, neither he or my aunt sounded at all upset, so I guess granddad's "alright", since he was supposed to be going home today.
Which just serves to remind me of my other grandfathers. Yes, plural. My mother's father hasn't visited her of his own accord since before I was born, but finally decided to just recently, since liver cancer probably won't give him much longer. I don't think I've ever actually met him, and I don't know anything about him, but he's heard all about me apparently.
And meanwhile, the guy who's been married to my maternal grandmother this whole time (I've never actually called him a grandfather, or "step grandfather" or anything, but he may as well be, and everyone loves him), just turned 70 last weekend. I was supposed to go and visit like most of the family did, but playing Dark Heresy by Skype was more important. I promised him over the phone that I'd come in the morning and overslept. My mother covered for me, as she always does, since they all know I work nights and everything, but it doesn't keep me from feeling useless and terrible that my mother has to excuse me from promises to my relatives.