Well I just found out last weekend that my great grandfather died and I didn't get my chance to say a final farewell to him. When we first met last year (because my dad and mom got seperated and I visit ever so often) he cried. He cried because I had his mothers eyes, the same olive green eyes that would always grant him love and refuge in her tender and caring arms. I was the first and only granddaughter he ever had. He cried because I was one of a kind in his eyes and he wished he could see me grow up. He died in the hospital because he had fallen and that would be the 8th or 9th time he would have broken his hip. He entered and exited the hospital every other week. I didn't get to see him in the weeks that he had off from the hospital. He was a very healthy man at the age of 96; not taking medications and having the hair and skin, soft, like a childs. He did honest work as a gardener and he was a great grandfather from the time i got to spend with him in the past year.
T R I P P Y C A T Community Member 
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