Fantastic advice David, thank you. I learned this lesson the hard way. I will always remember that the very last time I saw my Grandmother alive, I had been sitting in her hospital room all day while she mostly drifted in and out of sleep. Don't get me wrong, I was kind, attentive, and loving while she was awake. I brought her some non-hospital food to eat, went to the expensive department store and bought her some expensive makeup that she would have never bought for herself. She was self-conscious about her appearance in the event that her paramour would visit (my Grandfather died 12 years prior). I tried to do all the "cool Grandson" things that I, in the back of my mind, knew would impress the 20 something year-old nurses who were her attendees.

By the end of the second day of this, after I'd talked to her doctors and was convinced that she was going to be fine, I started prepping for my departure. Around 5pm (and notably before visiting hours were over), I was ready to get out of there. I was already thinking ahead of meeting a couple of my high-school friends for Happy Hour (I live in Texas but spent a year of high school in Ohio, where my Grandmother lived, and thus I hadn't seen some of these friends for nearly 10 years).

I told her I loved her and that I was heading out. I'll never forget the look on her face: she looked sad and disappointed, but didn't try to stop me. I told her that she was in good care and that I'd be back to check on her in a couple of months. I never got that chance.