A week after the news, I still can't grapple with the fact that I can't pick up the phone and hear his voice on the other end. The last day I saw him was on November 19th. He told me that after his most recent heart attack in early November, his body was failing. He asked me not to be sad. He told me that he was fulfilled by the life he led, proud of watching his family grow, and at peace.
I wish that it were possible for me to be as at peace with his passing as he was. But I love him and I miss him every day. You're always left wishing there was something else you would have said, one more story you could have heard, or one more moment you could have savored for a little bit longer.
All four of my Grandparents have now passed from heart disease or stroke. And it is painful, every time. It's impossible to watch the bodies and minds of the people you love deteriorate. It's even more impossible for me to think about the physical settings and tangible experiences of my memories and try to understand that space as empty. I can't wrap my mind around the house or the card table or the front patio chair as unoccupied. When people say that death leaves a hole in your heart, it's true. But it also leaves a physical hole in the world that is impossible to fill or comprehend.
He was an incredible man. He was resilient through heart attacks, surgery, sickness, and injury. He was a loyal husband, a wonderful father, and the most supportive, loving, and kind grandfather. He served his family as a husband and father, his country as a soldier, and his only granddaughter as a source of love and tranquility.
After his first heart attack, my Grandpa John changed his diet, quit smoking, and frequented the hospital for check ups. He made the conscious decision to change his life to stay healthy. He wanted more than anything to watch his two sons thrive. He wanted to see his two grandchildren graduate, pursue adventures, and start families. I wish I could have him at my college graduation, or at my wedding, or just at the dinner table again. But I know that my grandfather cared for his heart as long as he possibly could. And in doing so, he cared for mine.
Taken on November 19th, our last day together.
