At 10:45 this morning, I got the call I've been anticipating for over a year: my grandfather passed away at about 6 this morning Pacific time (about 9 here).
Grandpa has been suffering from Alzheimer's since a heart attack in 2002 (I think). When I was out to visit in September, we all acknowledged it was probably my last time to see him, and even at New Year's Dad admitted that Grandpa wouldn't make it to see 2005.
Ignoring the obvious biological thing, I owe so much to him. Without his financial wizardry and know-how, I wouldn't have gone to Willamette, nor would I have (likely) moved to Florida. He covered the unexpected tax bill when I tried to register my car here. He was definitely the grandfather I knew best, even though both sets of grandparents lived on the same street when I was young.
Of course, he also taught me to hate mowing lawns — I was the lucky person who got to mow the common-area lawn between his house and the golf course (as well as common areas for a few neighbors!) until enough homes were built for the association to hire a "real" lawn service. As much as I hate mowing lawns, though — and this sounds cliché — it did teach me the value and reward of hard work.
My family has never been the close, "I love you"-saying kind. Fortunately, I felt I had my chance to say goodbye in person, and having seen him last fall, I can honestly say he is better off. For a man so active and intelligent, nothing could have been more painful than to slowly lose mobility and mind.
My greatest worry now is my grandmother. She has had him to take care of her for most of her life. While I'm sure there is some relief at not having to take care of him anymore (it was clearly wearing her out), there is still that unknown-future factor. If you're the praying type... drop her a kind mention, would you?
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