This is one of these moments I almost wish I had faith. You know, the afterlife and everything?
My grandfather died last night – it wasn’t as if we hadn’t seen it coming, but it was still… shocking. Quicker than I expected it to be (isn’t it always?). I wasn’t planning on taking my dad’s call at first, this morning, he should know by now that I am working at that time and it doesn’t exactly make a good impression when you’re Skype’ing at work. But I remembered my grandpa… and I figured that if my dad did call me during working hours maybe – just maybe – it was because it was important. And so it was.
I’ve already tried to honor his memory last week (you can read it here) so I will not repeat it here. In a way, it would be nice to think he is in a “better place” now. Seeing his parents and other loved ones again. On the other hand, I think he’d be bored pretty soon eating rice pudding with golden spoons every day for all of eternity. I know I would. And those 72 virgins can keep one busy only for so long. But I’m mixing up religions here, I believe (!).
I don’t know if opa was religious, if he was expecting to go to heaven. But if he still exists, in whatever way, I hope he is happy. I lost whatever religiousness/spirituality I had a long time ago, so that is the best I can do right now: I hope that if he *is*, wherever he is, he is safe, healthy, and happy. But I hope it from the bottom of my heart.