My Grandfather had found out that he had a brain tumor near the end of 2010. A few short months after finding out, he had surgery to removed the tumor from the frontal lobe portion of his brain. According to his doctors, his tumor was about the size of a golf ball. He had made it through the surgery, and awoke about a week after. The scariest part of the entire situation, was waiting for him to respond, and wake up after surgery. The strongest man I had known, had awakened with no memory. He had no idea who I was, and barely knew who my mother was, his daughter. He began multiple therapies in order to do daily living tasks, regain memory again, and attempt to function as a typical person again. After a few months, my grandfather knew who my mother and I were again. He had lived with us for a few months to continue therapy, before moving to an assisted living home. He was so excited to be living in his own "apartment" again. I remember the calls I would get from him very clearly, around two to three in the morning, saying that he was unable to sleep and just wanted to talk to me. Those became my favorite part of my days. On March 21st, 2013, my grandfather had passed away. Not only because of the brain tumor, but because of other illnesses he had acquired over time, and with old-age. To this day, I can not explain the strength it took to get through those last few years. I do know for one thing, it had made my mother and I a lot stronger, and I would not change how things happened. My grandfather, a truck driver of 40 years, had a great life, with many friends, and a family who loved him dearly. He is greatly missed, and remembered as a strong, courageous man, who had lived through more then the typical person in his last few years. He fought through it all.