My husband’s grandfather passed away this afternoon, and I need to write.
I met my darling grampa in 1999, when my husband and I came to Winnipeg to have a social to celebrate our wedding. This handsome man was so generous in welcoming me and my two children into his family, and he was always ready for a kiss and hug.
He delighted in drawings from his great grandchildren, and he had several in his room, posted at the end of his bed so he could wake to them each morning.
Toward the end, vascular dementia plagued his mind, but in moments of stark clarity, you could still see the twinkle in his eye.
My last memory of him is an awesome gift - we were just about to leave the home after visiting him and my husbands grandmother, who lives in the same residence - and as we were walking by his door, I caught his eye, and went to get my hug. He threw his arms wide open and took me in a strong embrace, patted my back and said “Good hug, good hug”.
I am so grateful that I had a few short years to get to know him, and he will always be there in the smiles of my children. Good night, Handsome.