This is one of the last photos I took of my beloved grandfather. He passed away in his sleep last night, at the age of 91. Dada exited his life the way he lived it – with grace, humility, and quiet dignity. When my grandmother passed, I had regrets – regrets that I didn’t visit her often enough, call her often enough, talk to her often enough – just didn’t make enough of an effort to stay in contact. After she passed, I tried to do better with my grandfather, and I hope I did. With Dada’s passing, I have only one regret – that he never got to meet either of his great grand-daughters. (We were planning a big trip with our entire family to see Dada this winter, and sadly that’ll never come to pass.)
Dada was the first person to know I was engaged, the first to know we were expecting, and the first to know Mira arrived.
Dada was the kindest, sweetest, most gentle, and most generous person I’ve ever known. I shall miss him terribly. In fact, I already do.