My father called this morning to tell me that my grandfather has passed away yesterday night. This was not a surprise. My grandfather had fallen ill last week and doctors had said that it would only be a matter of a few days before he would die. His body was weakened and there was no spirit left to hold on to life: he had Alzheimer's for over a year now.

It is probably better this way and I had not seen my grandfather for over half a year. Visiting him would only have meant holding his hand or sitting there while he did not recognize you and dozed off every few minutes. So in a way I had already said goodbye for myself. Still, hearing the emotion in my father's voice when he told me the news made me cry.

My grandfather was 88 years old.