Well, at roughly a quarter after 4 in the afternoon today my last remaining Grandparent passed away. Grampa John wasn't 80 yet but he's been a large man for a while. I never really knew him that well- as my older brother put it he was really just some sarcastic old man that we met a bunch of times every now and again. I mean, it's safe to say that grand total I've spent significantly less than 250 hours with him in the same city as me over the course of my lifetime.

He started really going down hill a few weeks ago and at that point he basically told his kids (my mom included) that he didn't really want any visitors as he didn't really want anyone to see him this way- mostly nonfunctional. Talking to my mother she pretty much agreed. She didn't want to remember he as a decrepit old man that's falling apart- who could blame her? Now what will happen is some of the kids will go down to Southern California to pick up his ashes after he is cremated and bury them next to my grandmother who died about 15 years ago.

I never really knew any of my grandparents all that well. Both on my mother's side have generally lived at least several hundred miles away if not several thousand. My Dad's mother passed when I was near 5 years old. His father lived with us and passed away about ten years ago but he had so many near death illnesses that when he passed he was really ready to go and we'd all prepared for it so many times that it was much less impact.

Kinda makes me wanna settle down y'know? I don't want to be like my Dad's dad and be 40 years old when I have my first kid. Sure he lived to 92 but his grandkids were barely in their teens.

Just crazy right? Crazy.