The last conversation I remember having with my Grandpa before he died he asked me if I was still playing guitar, and I said I was.
"I'm fine, don't worry about me."
My grandfather had been diagnosed with stage 4 cancer and refused all treatment. In his words, "I'm 86 years old, what the hell is the point?" The last time I saw him he looked bad and was clearly in a lot of pain, but he kept insisting that he didn't want anyone making a big fuss over him. He died three days later.