The three things that have gotten me through the past 24 hours are 1. prayer 2. being surrounded by family 3. music.
I was able to leave work a half hour early yesterday, only to come home and find my house surrounded by medical vehicles and flashing lights. My sister was in the front yard, tears streaming, cell phone in hand. I rushed over to her-- "what's happening?!" "It's Grandpa..." My grandma was finally taking him to the E.R., (he could hardly breath most of the weekend), when he collapsed in the patio never to revive again. The paramedics were warring with Grandpa's chest-- no pulse-- it was surreal, poetic, and gruesome all the same time.
My Grandpa was one of my dearest friends. We had many adventures together, including a road trip to AZ, in a red convertible mustang!, to visit his boyhood farmhouse-- I got to experience the place I'd only heard about in stories-- He grew up on a cotton farm in the southeast corner of the state and was in the same Stake as former President of the Church, Spencer W. Kimball. He was one of 11 children and the last one to pass away-- He loved a good crossword puzzle and telling corny jokes. His favorite: If your nose runs and your feet smell, what's wrong with you? You're built upside down. My favorite: What do you call 4 bull fighters in quicksand? Quatro Cinco.
Grandpa, thank you for all the memories! xoxo