My father’s father passed away today. He was my last grandparent. He was 98 years old.
Grief is so weird. My granddad is the fourth of my four grandparents to pass, so this isn’t a new experience, but I keep cycling between relief that his ailments are over, and a very deep sadness. I had such a strong affection for him. I remember telling him when I was pretty young that he was my favorite grandfather, and my mother’s mother was my favorite grandmother. (AWKWARD.)
More proof that I’ve never had and never will have a filter.
‘Tis the season for celebrating, and despite our loss my family has been blessed with so much. I’m incredibly grateful.