Death

Bad day. Bad week. My grandfather died this morning, and the whole day has been taken up with arrangements. He was 92 years old, and sharp to the very end. On the one hand, it’s a relief; he’s been in so much pain these past few months, and it’s good to think he’s not hurting anymore, but I feel bad for my dad and my uncle. The funeral is tomorrow, and we’re all scrambling to get everything done by then. I have no idea whether I’ll be in New York or up in N’ton for the next week; it depends on what’s needed for shiva.

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