5:55
Every day of his life, my grandad rose to meet the sun at 5:55
My grandfather was always a jokester. He would put on the most serious expression when you asked him a question and say, “What are you, stupid?” Then his eyes would sparkle and a gigantic grin would light up his face as he laughed, and you couldn’t help but laugh too. The last sentence I ever heard him utter was a joke about mowing down a couple tables with his wheelchair.
From what I know about him, he wasn’t always the perfect father or husband. Then again, no one is. But he loved to make people laugh and he loved his family. He had big blue eyes that still spoke so many words long after a stroke took away his ability to talk. I didn’t know him as well as I wish I could have, but I loved him.
He died yesterday in his sleep, at 5:55.
I’d love to ask him how the sunrise looks in heaven.
Tagged as: grandfather. death. life. laugh. blue eyes. loss. love.
