I can't tell if my heart is in my throat or in my stomach

I went to visit my grandpa this morning. Really it was less of a visit and more of a goodbye. For some reason, I thought it would be easier. We've expected his condition to deteriorate for some time, but recently he's taken a turn for the worse. He has Alzheimer's and he's approaching the last stages. He also has an infection that as I understand, will turn to pneumonia because he can't really eat and isn't strong enough to fight it.

The reasonable person inside me tells me that it's time, it's for the best, and it was time to go to say goodbye.

I said the most important words I know. At the end of the visit, I told him, "I love you," and I kissed him on the cheek. His eyes were staring at me, but I know that if he knew who I was, it was taking a lot to remember it. He squeezed my hand, held it a moment, laid back in his chair, and started drifting to sleep.

I was able to walk out to my car before the tears started. He is a strong man. He is a veteran, lost my grandma when I had barely entered middle school, and he's been fighting Alzheimer's for some time. I don't know if he'll be gone sooner or a bit longer, but I think that it was important to tell him I love him.

This year has already been heavy with death and this is one I'm expecting. I know now that's it's also probably going to hit me the hardest. I love my Grandpa and I'm very sad he's having to suffer, but I hope at least some part of him takes comfort in the love of his family.