Isn't that something!

[corrvin]

My granddad was weak, but lucid and not in pain, when I saw him last Wednesday. Hospice was set up late in the week, so when he took a sharp downturn on Friday and wasn't able to get around, they were available to come and help.

Saturday, he was a little more alert, probably thanks to the ibuprofen and anti-anxiety medicine they convinced him to take; enough that my parents went out for dinner and a movie for their 40th wedding anniversary, while my uncle stayed home with him and my grandma.

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My parents are one of the most awesome married couples I know. They have a great partnership and share a sense of humor, which I think is part of why they get along so well.

When I was in high school, my parents would go grocery shopping together, then split up in the store, take separate carts, and pretend to meet each other in the checkout line. Then, for the benefit of the checkout clerk...

DAD: Hey, you look really nice. Want to go home with me?
MOM: Oh, I don't know about that.
DAD: I could cook you dinner. And we could sleep together.
MOM: I'm married.
DAD: Great, then YOU can cook dinner.

...Given the short-term nature of the checkout clerks, there's always someone new and shockable...

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So my parents got done with the movie and went back, checked on my granddad, and went home.

About 7 in the morning, my uncle called and said "Get over here, I think he's going." My granddad had had a few chips of ice and not much else in the previous hours, and his breathing was very labored.

He passed very quietly, without regaining consciousness, just before my parents arrived.

By the time I showed up at quarter til 11, the funeral home had been and gone, the house had been picked up a bit, and my grandmother was ready for visitors. Since the church crowd hadn't heard the news yet, we were on our own for lunch, so my uncle and I went out to get pizza.

My grandfather was an insulin-dependent diabetic, so my grandmother followed his diet along with him for years; much to my surprise, when I asked what drinks to pick up, she said, "I want a Coke, a real Coke, not a diet one."

My dad said the grace, which choked everyone up a bit. And we talked and chattered, and more people came by, a couple at a time.

It wasn't just about being sorrowful together, it was about taking the opportunity to re-connect in the midst of change. There was laughing and hugging and kissing, as well as tears.

My grandmother tried again to give me a set of dishes (Christmas patterns, service for 12). I refused on the grounds of having no space, and joked, "Could you hang onto them for another 10 years?"

She got a thoughtful look and said "Well, you know, I just might make it to 100!"

I am so proud of her. I really am. For the past few months, she has been grieving, and winding up the rest of her life with my grandfather, and now she's ready to start her life after him.

Wednesday we're going to bury him, with the military burial and all, and then... go on.