And now in my 50s, I get it. I feel quite chagrined about it, but I understand where grandpa was coming from.
Maybe my Aunt Dot said it best when she says hearts break, but they heal. Heal they do, but the scar from that hurt always remains as a reminder and once in a while, as damaged areas from a distant hurt or injury do, they ache again. Not as searingly painful as they were at first, but as a dull ache. Just enough to get your attention and to say, "remember, remember."
Last weekend I was watching Nicole Kidman in Rabbit Hole and came upon this scene with the wonderful Dianne Wiest.
The best example of explaining grief that I've come across yet.