My grandfather passed away on Sunday, and his funeral was this morning in Alta, Iowa, where he lived. He was in his 80s, and had COPD for many years, and it was certainly not unexpected. But it was still a sad time, particularly for my aunt and uncle, both of whom lived close by, and for my mom, who is still in the hospital here and was unable to travel for the funeral.

The VFW was in attendance, and the presentation of the flag was quite emotional. Military things always make me cry, and it pretty much did in everyone else in attendance, as well.

The visitation and funeral were, for me and most of my cousins, an experience of mostly pretending to remember who people were, and saying the same things over and over. “Yes, one son, he’s almost four.” “Oh, mom’s making progress. She sure wishes she could be here.” And of course the inevitable “No, we’re not sure when Wally will get a sibling.” (sigh.)

My grandmother is doing quite well, all things considered. They had fortunately moved both of my grandparents into an assisted living facility in the fall, and she just loves it. So at least she’s already settled in, and doesn’t have to make any difficult transitions during an already difficult time. She looked beautiful as always. (Frankly, I think I have a pretty good looking family, and I can say that since I’m not actually genetically related to any of them. My grandparents were both lookers - particularly, the pictures of my grandfather in his army uniform.)