rephrased

So I spent most of the long weekend in Buffalo. Not a recreational trip, one of those "family duty" trips. My grandfather lives out there. He's 83 and I haven't seen him since his 80th birthday, so when I found out my father was headed out there, I decided to do the "good child" thing. I was actually pretty shocked to see him. He's in the hospital and has been there for a long time. He always used to be a big, broad shouldered man with bright blue eyes that played even when he was upset. He always used to play-box with me, strong and quick enough that even when I was twelve, when I was afraid to play because I was afraid to play because I was afraid of throwing him off balance, he could land a few good ones on me. He's been in the bed for so long though. His frame is small and shriveled, and his eyes are sunken in the hanging skin of his face. His eyes are afraid and unable to recognize me, even after the first several times I told him who I was. He remembers who I am when I tell him, but each time I walked into the room, he would look questioningly and say, "Excuse me, sir..." On Saturday morning we found him sleeping with his sheet over his head. On Saturday afternoon he told me he wants to die.