This is my Grandfather, Garold Wilde Campbell. (My Gman is named in his honor.) He's had cancer for a few years, and not for the first time. Al and I went to go see him at New Year's and we were so fortunate that for those few days, his pain meds were in perfect unison & he was the Grandpa I'd always known...arguing with me about who should do the dishes, puttering around in his workshop and carrying in wood to keep a fire burning all day. He always refered to himself as a Spring Chicken. Before every shower, he'd state "I already had my annual bath, why do I need another," and after he'd state "I feel like a new woman." He's hilarious, and sweet, and quick to call "bullshit".....of course he could recognize it so quickly because he was the best at it.
He passed away last month, but it's just been too hard to sit down and write. He lived in Washington, near the coast. Every time I visited there, I felt it was the grayest place on earth. He was the ray of sunshine that place needed, for it was almost always overcast. The sun came out that afternoon just before he died. Just for him.
He was the last living grandparent I had. And even in those last 2 weeks, when the inevitable was inevitable, as long as he was alive, I felt like the world was somehow OK. And now, no longer having him or any grandparents left, even with an amazing family and plethora of friends, I fear a small part of my heart will always feel very alone.
