How do you say goodbye to someone who wasn't really a part of your life?
How do you listen and nod in agreement as the priest recounts what a "good life" he led? Even though...even though, you know differently.
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I guess you mourn the passing of someone who was a part of your genetics but not necessarily a part of your life.
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Yet, he was.
If only in a small way.
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My grandfather died last Monday. My mom's father. My children's great-grandfather.
He was the only one I had, since my paternal grandfather died before I was even thought about.
We went to his funeral this afternoon -- to say goodbye to someone I never really greeted very often. But funerals are for the living...not the departed.
It's strange really. A very odd way to feel. Going to a funeral and not feeling, well, really much of anything.
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But I love horses. And he loved horses, too. And I love studying World War II. And he lived through and served in World War II. And according to the "day you were born" poem, being born on Thursday means I have "far to go." And he worked as a conductor on trains.
I guess we really are linked.
If only in some small and quirky ways.
And I'll miss the chance to really get to know him better.