When my grandad got hospitalized I didn't dare to visit him. He was in a coma and I somehow felt like it was my fault because weeks before it happened I had the feeling I was going to lose him soon (although I wasn't sure to what or if it was truly going to happen or not). I never told him that I loved him nor that he was the most important person in my life. I regret it like there's no tomorrow and at the same night I visited him in hospital (even though I didn't dare it...) he passed away. During the cremation I tried to not cry and to be strong for my family (mostly my mom as it was her dad). But now, it feels like I didn't care while I did and been carrying this burden for nearly 2-3 years now.