Monday my Mom called to tell me my Grandpa died. He was 92 so although he was doing great for his age it wasn't entirely a surprise. Monday was also Fiona's birthday and I didn't want to ruin that for her so I decided to wait to tell her. She had a friend over yesterday and I didn't want to upset them both so I waited again (yes I may have been making excuses to avoid it). This morning I finally told her. She took it pretty well, she was sad but she's still young enough she only understands on a surface level.
I held it together for two days to protect Fiona but now it's really hitting me.
He lived a good life. He was mentally acute and able to take care of himself to the end. He fell asleep and never woke up.
I wish he was going to be here for Christmas.