Emotion imbalance

Sometimes I have no trouble hiding my feelings, almost to a fault. Like when I talk about my Grandpa that is dying - slowly suffocating to death as his smoke-damaged lungs fail to give his brain the oxygen it needs. Only a few measly tears well up in my eyes when my mom tells me about how my dad is coping with the idea that his father will be around for days or weeks rather than years. He had time to prepare, it's been no secret that my Grandpa has been hooked up to oxygen for years or that slowly he was taking more medications and was understanding less. I think about my dad losing a parent. I think about losing my own parent. It's too much to think about so I just don't think about it.

Then there is Lampshade who travels for work regularly. Again, I think about my dad. But this time without any trouble expressing my emotions. My fear that he'll miss birthdays, anniversaries and confirmations. My fear that we'll get used to it. That he'll just call to say goodnight but we'll be too tired to talk. My fear that I'll get used to him being gone and not cry when he leaves or get anxious for his homecoming.

And unlike with my Grandpa, I have no trouble expressing those emotions - crying on the phone like an emotionally imbalanced girlfriend while all the while trying to balance my absolute pride and genuine support for his career successes. And reminding myself that it's hard for him too - driving long, lonely hours in a rental car, sleeping in a strange bed and wishing he was home, probably even more so when he hears the tears.

I know he and I will be fine. I don't even doubt it a second. My grandpa won't be fine. He's going to die. Why then do I cry for the one that I know will be more than amazing yet unable to show emotion for the one that ends with the ultimate finality?