Sad, sad day

My Grandpa passed away this morning at 7:15 am. Funny thing is, I was running on the treadmill and at about the same time, I looked through the window at the moon, audibly sobbed, choked back tears, and thought of him, and wondered what everyone else in my family was doing at that moment. Then it passed, I finished my run, and got home to a voicemail from my mom. I still have trouble with God-speak, but the spirit that holds us all together definitely took a hit this morning, and I am grateful I felt the ripple. My aunt was with him when he died and said the instant he passed, he looked 20 years old again. He was 97, and much, much loved. He'd lived long enough to make peace with estranged children and grandchildren, forgive himself and others for all the slights of life, and to face the afterlife, whatever it may be, with total peace. We know this because for the last couple of years, he would say he was ready for the angels to come. We were so fortunate to have Grandpa so long, and I am glad he so peacefully moved into the next life. He was a special man to so many, and of course to me, and I will miss his wit, his love, his humor, and his Grandpa-isms. The really crappy part was I had to go to work and suffer through the day. I waved away the few people who tried to ask about him or offer condolences, and after a daylong meeting, broke down in my office at the end of the day. I had a complete meltdown in the car and on the phone with my brother, who was remarkably philosophical and much more together than I was. Which was good, because then I was prepared to talk to my dad (Grandpa was his father), and we were both ok. I was surprised at how grief-stricken I was at the news... I had been preparing for a week (he slowly faded...), and, he was 97! But being forced to say goodbye, when in truth he'd been "gone" for a couple of years, was brutal. Peace to all for the holidays. Peace to my Grandpa... the angels finally came. H