My dad called me just as I got back from lunch. I missed his call, and he asked me to call him back, no other content in his message. I knew what that meant.
Yesterday my grandfather (on my Dad's side, and my last remaining grandparent) went into a coma. He has been moved from his home to a hospice. Doctors are unsure whether he'll make it the next day or two, or recover completely. Well, as completely as a 92-year-old man with metastizing prostate cancer (it was found in his bones about a year ago) can recover completely from anything.
Just looped "New York Winter" by Dorian Spencer three times in a row, as it's the best 9/11 song I know, and he helped me a lot that day, since Minneapolis is far away from what was the highly overloaded switches near NYC that day.
I've already talked to my boss about what will need to be done when the inevitable happens, so I'm administratively prepared. I was not emotionally prepared for what I knew intellectually, though.