My grandpa died yesterday. My dad's father, that is.
I cried when mom told me a couple of hours ago, but now it seems like I'm done crying. Have been for a while.
I think... the reason for why I'm not more... upset about it now, is that I had already come to terms with that he would die. It sounds horrible, but a number of months ago he was brought into the hospital, due to heart problems.
At that point, I was positive he would die. So I cried, and cried, and cried, and cried. I imagined life without him in it, how it would be for dad, for my auntie Christina, for grandma... I don't know for how long they've been married, but it's for the most part of her life. Poor grandma...
So... I've already shed my tears for him. I mourn his passing something enormous. He was such an amazing person, one of those who were good at everything.
He built an entire house by himself. He was amazing.
He seemed kindof... tough. I remember I was frightened of him when I was a child. Now though, he seemed so much softer. Maybe it was because he was older. I miss him.
Folke, when you died, the world lost one of its greatest men. You were exceptional. I will miss you dearly. I love you, and do not begrudge you for dying. Everyone has their time to go, and this was yours. I hope you are happy with the life you've had, and that you will be happy wherever you are now.
Rest in peace.
