Our family lost a good man over the weekend. Rupert's grandfather passed away after three weeks in the hospital and a nursing home. Towards the end, Rupert and I knew we were never going to see Grandpa at home again in his favorite recliner. But knowing in your head that the end is near doesn't change how much your heart breaks. The whole family is mourning the loss of a truly kind and gentle person whom we all looked up to.
I've known Grandpa Murray my entire adult life (close to 20 years) and he was always the sweetest person. You couldn't help but want to lean in and give him a big hug and kiss every time you saw him. After my own grandfathers passed away my fondness for him increased. I call him "Grandpa" because I truly feel like he's my grandfather. And I always felt like he treated me as one of his granddaughters; when the man spoils you even when you're 36 years old, you know he sees you as a granddaughter!
And my kids are blessed because not only did they know their great-grandfather, but they spent a great deal of time with him. He was a given in their lives, and not all of us are fortunate to have a great-grandparent be a constant presence during our childhood.
My husband probably also had a special place in Grandpa's heart because he's the oldest grandchild. I'll always remember them bonding over sports (Lakers basketball in particular) and, most recently, walking together and talking about Grandpa's life. My normally stoic husband's voice broke while speaking at his grandfather's funeral and I knew he was hurting more than he showed.
Wednesday's funeral was nothing fancy -- probably just the way Grandpa would've wanted it -- but everyone's words were heartfelt and true. We were certainly relieved that Grandpa wasn't suffering anymore, but his absence is going to leave a huge hole in our extended family.
Afterwards we had a big family dinner at Lawry's, Grandpa's favorite place to celebrate, and that's exactly what we did: we celebrated his life and memory. We'll never forget you, Grandpa!