Someone special died.

It’s not often that I write about someone passing away. I rarely comment. Not because I don’t feel loss or grieve, but most of the time I am at a loss for words and so many of the words you hear just don’t seem to do a life justice. Rest in peace, my deepest sympathy, heart felt respect. Yes, I mean them when I say them and I am sure everyone else does too.

Then one day my grandfather died, my father’s dad. He was so much a part of my life and values that even today I cry because I miss him. As I grew older I didn’t see him as often as I did when young, but he was the foundation of the family. Until he died, I never imagined he would. My grandfather woke up each day and asked God what he wanted him to do today. I imagine that the morning my grandfather died that God told him it was time to come home.

I didn't want to hear about how he lived a good life. I wanted him back in my life. It took awhile to realize that by remembering him, what he stood for and how he lived each day, that he would continue to live on. Without people who care, the world would a be a sad, cold, lonely place.

Many people live day to day with no purpose other than just to live today. Some people live to make today the best today they can. Some people live each day to the fullest and doing something they love. I think that if we are lucky, we get to die doing what we love.