My grandparents died the weekend before last.

My mom’s parents, that is.

They were married 71 years and they died within three days of each other.

My grandfather passed away late Friday night, and my grandmother passed away early Sunday morning.

He was 93, and she was 88.

They both had such long lives and enjoyed decades together that so many never see.

I am so thankful for that.

Their funeral was this last weekend, and we drove to Del Rio, TX to attend.

We left town mid-morning on Friday and got to Del Rio around 5:30.

On Saturday, we went to a quiet late morning funeral service in a dusty old funeral home. The carpet was maroon colored and shaggy, and my dad did a great job with the eulogy. Everyone ate lunch at my cousin’s house afterward, and then we had a grave-site memorial in Carta Valley.

From Carta Valley, we drove directly home.

Not all of us went though.

H, you got strep-throat two days before we left, so we left you in Seminole with your Grandparents.

We sold your stay as a sleep-over, so you could go swim at the splash-pad – we conveniently left out where we were going while you were there.

I am sorry you didn’t get to come, but I am glad I did not have to take you to a funeral yet.

You know that Sadie died.

But I don’t think at the age of four, you have quite connected all the dots.

I could just see telling you that my grandparents died.

If I did, I think it would take you about 60 seconds to get there.

People die too? Will my grandparents die? Will you die? Will I die?

It was almost a relief that you were sick.

And K, you took the trip like a champ.

Twelve hours in the car, over a thirty-six hour period, and you hardly fussed.

We will talk about death soon enough.

But not yet.

I love you.

–Dad

Well I got my toenails painted a few weeks ago.

H, it all started because you wanted to get yours painted.

Of course, mom asked if I needed mine done too, and you immediately agreed.

So I sat with my feet on a towel as mom painted them and you watched.

You insisted they be painted “sparkly pink.”

I was more than willing to play along, and I forgot about it all as soon as my toenails were dry and I put my socks back on.

I forgot about it all – until we got to the swimming pool a few days later.

As I took my socks off, I laughed, then shrugged, and just got in the water anyway, proud of my pink.

Some kid swimming past me in goggles probably choked on water as she went by.

Ha.

I love you.

–Dad