An absence looms in the air today of someone cherished and someone loved. Taken by an unforgivable disease, he now rests, escaping the pain that plagued him, like a binding lock without a key. This disease denied desires. It came between us when I turned eight. A little girl had to grow up in one day as she witnessed a wrecking ball demolish her whole world. She saw her grandfather forget her existence. Visits to places he inhabited where she held his hand and trembled as she stared into two empty, blank slates. Unable to recognize his granddaughter’s face, he sat confused, thinking, “Who are these people? And why do they cry?” The hand she gripped was cold, limp, and lifeless like flowers after a season’s first frost. “Grandpa! Why don’t you remember me?” were words she longed to say, but tear-stained cheeks were proof of the response she already knew. She realized it was senseless to argue. With memory gone, death loomed as he was whisked farther away like debris in an endless, rushing river.