I remember it like it was yesterday. It was the evening of the 28th of December and I was still in the Chicago office. I texted my mom to see if she wanted me to be at my grandparents’ apartment.
Mom suggested that I go home (my own apartment at the time) since it was snow hard out and the roads were slick. So I did what I was told.
My phone was on silent and I went to sleep, but something woke me up and just before midnight I noticed I missed a few calls from mom and her text message
He’s gone.
A relief actually. After a slow decline over the course of two years he finally found rest.
Only a few days prior my mom and I were half joking about when my grandfather would pass away. She said:
I begged him to avoid the 24, 25, 27, 31, and 1st.
In case you were wondering my parents’ anniversary is the 27th of December.
So he passed the evening of the 28th… a little after 11:00 pm. Granted his death certificate says 1:00 am on the 29th of December, but that was when the funeral home picked up his body and the death certificate was official.
My uncle and I drove to my grandparents’ apartment the moment we were awake and able (meaning around midnight), and we stayed until my grandfather’s body was taken away.
Why wasn’t I there when he passed? As it turns out, my grandfather wrote a letter years prior with the people he wanted to be there when he passed: his wife (my grandmother) and my mom. And hindsight being as it is… I understand why, doesn’t mean I have to like it…