i received a phone call early this morning from my mom telling me that my grandfather had passed away during the night.
it didn’t come as a complete shock to me that he died – in fact, i knew that he wasn’t doing well physically lately – but what struck me as more of a shock is knowing that i no longer have any grandparents alive.
before i was born, my two grandmothers passed away, so i never got to meet them – i only heard stories about how amazing they were, which created in me a longing to want to spend as much time with them as possible come eternity.
my dad’s dad passed away when i was four – while i don’t remember much about him, i do have two solid memories of him that i’ll never forget: riding on his electric wheelchair while sitting on his lap and going out for “coffee” at a local diner with my dad and him – mind you, my “coffee” was actually orange juice, but anyway…
with my mom’s dad, he was pretty much the only grandparent i ever really knew. i could spend hours up at his cabin in middle-of-nowhere northeastern washington state talking about any subject that came to mind.
he was the one who instilled in me a need (yes, a need) to go to antarctica at some point in my life (he’d been to the other six continents and always regretted never making it to the seventh). with his passing, i feel the need to go there even stronger than ever.