When I was twenty years old my grandfather was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. He passed before I turned twenty-one. In all my years leading up to that day no one ever sat me down and taught me how to deal with the pain of loss. There were no classes in school. My mom never explained how it would feel, or how to cope with that pit in your stomach. It was just one of those things I had to figure out on my own. One of the...