The voicemail message was from my dad, and I knew immediately something was wrong. It was one of those, “call me or your mother when you get this” messages, no further details. Those are never good.
So I called and got the news: my grandfather had taken a turn for the worse. Dad was flying out to see him… and wait. We all waited. Was it somehow easier, knowing that it was coming? I don’t know.
He died yesterday evening.
I will miss him.