Posted by Jennifer B. at The Writing Cocoon.
It’s disconcerting how hard some things hit you, even when you see them coming from a mile away. Yesterday my grandfather died, after many years of illness.
My grandfather had a mischievous sense of humor and was a great story teller. I remember how he would laugh so hard that tears rolled down his cheeks when telling a whopper of a story or a good joke. You could tell when his imagination was sparked by something someone said or did; his eyes would light up and a devilish grin would spread across his face. That’s when you knew you were in for a good time, a good story, and a good laugh.
He loved his family. He was an amazing cook, lifelong fisherman, avid gardener, joyful prankster, and someone of whom all my memories are happy ones.
He took me in, he kept me clothed and fed, and he made me laugh. He wasn’t perfect, but he was both grandpa and dad when I needed them most. I am relieved that he is no longer suffering, but I am still very sad. I don’t know what more to write.