Last Friday, my grandfather passed
Last Friday, my grandfather passed away. So Tuesday I went to South Bend, IN for his funeral. His death wasn't surprising or tragic. He's had emphysema for the past year, from being a chronic smoker. It was very disabling for him. He passed away at home, in his sleep. Given the options, this was preferable to dying in a hospital connected to a bunch of tubes.
My father, a minister, did the funeral service. It was a wonderful service. Relating stories of Grandpa made us laugh and made us cry, and made us appreciate his life. My grandfather was prepared to die, he had said his goodbyes, and so the funeral was not morose. Rather, it was a cathartic and happy reflection on his wonderful life. He was a beautiful person, sometimes awkward in his boisterousness, but always generous, sociable and loving. After the service, the family went to my grandmother's house for a party, where distant relatives who haven't seen each other in decades caught up on life. I achieved a tertiary objective of my short visit in getting to know my uncle Scott from Florida. He taught me to recognize who I am, and to accept the benefits and drawbacks of that recognition. I believe in living the examined life, but does that mean searching and struggling to find who I truly am, or simply accepting myself as is?