Goodbye, Gramps...
My paternal grandfather died this morning at age 90. He's been living with my parents for the past two years, and it was a very quick and gentle death. Dad got to see him just this morning. By all standards, it's what I consider a "good death", and I'm very glad he could have that. My heart right now is with my Dad, who I adore, and who is going through losing his own Dad. I can't imagine what that feels like, and I'm afraid to even try, but I wish there was something I could do to help it hurt him less.
Gramps was a good and honorable man. My clearest memory of him will always be the care with which he nursed my dying Granny, eighteen years ago. When she was dying of cancer, he managed to keep her at home the entire time, caring for her needs. It was a tremendous expression of love.
He and I have never been all that close -- I'm a baffling kind of woman to him -- but he has always treated me with love and generosity even when we weren't really sure what we could find to talk about. I'm glad I got to see him in February during the family Nashville visit, and I'm glad the move meant that the whole family got more of a chance to spend time with him in his final years.
Gramps was a good and honorable man. My clearest memory of him will always be the care with which he nursed my dying Granny, eighteen years ago. When she was dying of cancer, he managed to keep her at home the entire time, caring for her needs. It was a tremendous expression of love.
He and I have never been all that close -- I'm a baffling kind of woman to him -- but he has always treated me with love and generosity even when we weren't really sure what we could find to talk about. I'm glad I got to see him in February during the family Nashville visit, and I'm glad the move meant that the whole family got more of a chance to spend time with him in his final years.