Some weeks just sort of drift by and others leave their mark.

I think this week will be the latter. Come the weekend, I’m off to Tampa to visit my grandpa. He’s the last of the grandparents and he’s getting a stint put in next week for an arterial blockage in his neck. It probably wouldn’t be a big deal for a 45 year old.

I guess when it all said and done, he is at total peace. More so than most of the folks I know. I’m sure some of that comes from a life as a minister. He has what appears to be an unwavering faith and what the rest of us consider an end, would just be another chapter to him. 87 years is a good run. I guess the part that scares me is this means the next time someone in my family dies, it will likely be my parent’s generation.

I also envy his faith. Nothing stirs it. If I had to face the reality of death in my life, I no longer feel like I know where I stand. I could revert back to the things I held so strongly in my youth. I could just look at it as the end and see nothing but opportunity for the short time I have left. I just wonder what it must be like to know you’re getting major surgery at that age. That sort of sentence for an 87 year old looks less like an ellipses and more like an exclamation point.