I have had a long weekend. On Friday night my husband’s grandfather passed away. He was 91 years old.
Two weeks ago he fell and broke his hip. I think we all knew he probably would not recover from the fall. After all he was 91 years old, but that did not make the last two weeks easy. He has not been in the best of health, and he has had a tough time this last year.
His wife of 70 years passed away last October, and he was never the same after that. But the last few weeks he has really gone down hill fast. He kind of just gave up on life. He was worn out and ready to die.
I never knew my grandfathers, so for the last fifteen years my husbands grandfather was a grandfather to me. I am so glad I got to know him. For the last year he lived with my in-laws, and my kids were able to get to know him. I am so thankful for the time my children got to spend with him. Not only do my children know both of their grandfathers, but they had the privilege of getting to know a great-grandfather as well.
When someone is 91 it is not totally unexpected when they die. It does not make it easy, but I think you are more prepared for it.
But on Saturday as we were on the way to the funeral home for the viewing of my husband’s grandfather, we found out our neighbor was killed in a car accident. He was 35 years old, with a wife and two kids. He was hit by someone going the wrong way, on a major highway, less than six miles from our house. He was simply on his way home, and he was hit head-on by someone. This could have easily been me or my husband. It was on a road we travel all the time. When someone you know, that is your age dies, it really makes you step back and think. It puts things in perspective.
This weekend my family had a reminder of how fragile life is. You never know when your last breathe will be or what tomorrow will bring. You never know what tomorrow will hold.