It had only been about 4 months and already my grandfather has joined my grandmother. Like last time, my parents and I had gone to Philadelphia to see family and attend his funeral. Two of my cousins didn't make it this time, though, because one had work and the other had school.

I'm actually doing quite well this time. When my grandmother passed, I was heartbroken beyond belief and almost couldn't stop crying. I loved my grandfather a lot but I never really knew him all too well. He was an artist, I know that, and loved a number of other things that I also loved, but didn't know about until recently. I've come home with a few of his paintings, including the last thing he was working on before he went to hospice. I'm just hoping that none of it got damaged in transport, and now I need to find out how to frame that last piece of his.

Interestingly, this is the first time in many years that I've gone to see family up there without my depression bothering me. Usually it would torment me and leave me feeling pretty empty for the duration of the visit, but I was actually really happy to be there and was fairly active. A bit of a digression, but still something I wanted to note.

I'm now back from there, and settling back in to normal life again. This year is crazy.

RIP, grandpa. Wish I had gotten to know you better while you were still around.
December 16, 1930 - August 28, 2014