My grandpa passed away this past Saturday. We got a call on Thursday that he had a stroke on Wednesday that left him unable to swallow or speak (he also had pneumonia and an infection in his foot.) My grandpa had already asked that he not receive any life support, including a feeding tube. One of my uncles traveled, immediately, up from Florida to be with him and to speak with the doctors. He did not see him until Friday morning. My dad left on Friday, frantically trying to get there before my grandpa died. My parents were able to be with him (along with one of my uncles and aunts) as they moved my grandpa to the hospice facilities at the hospital. My dad said that he was communicating with grunts, eye movements, and really trying to smile (he said you could tell it was frustrating him to not be able to speak.)
E and our family had packed up Friday night in efforts to leave first thing on Saturday morning to try to get to N.C. before my grandpa died. However, my dad called at 4:30 in the morning to tell me that my grandpa had passed. (Two of my cousins had driven through the night from MI and arrived only 30 minutes or so after he died.)
Through out the next couple of days, more and more of our family arrived. Until all of the brothers, all but one of the 11 grandchildren, and 9 of the great grand children were gathered in Waynesville, N.C. (we all had to travel. Not one of us lives in N.C. My grandpa moved there in his later adult life.)
Even though we were grieving, and processing the loss of my grandpa, we were able to reconnect with our family. My grandpa's legacy. What a great legacy it is.
All of us
The brothers. My dad is the 2nd from the right.
My family, my brother and sister-in-law and my parents
My dad and my boys.