The First Time I Watched Someone Take Their Last Breath

I was 8 years old when I watched my grandfather consciously choose his final breath — here’s the story.

The first memory I have of my grandfather was when he came to our house on 18th ave for a visit and he had to duck his head to get from room to room. Being 6 ft. 7, the doorways in our old 1930s rental home were no match for his height.

I knew he was an important and well-known person because of what my mom would constantly tell me, but I…

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Dylan McCansh

Dylan McCansh

My public journal about all the things I’ve been through & I’m interested in—with the hope that it benefits you. 🤍 Love is the answer