My grandfather died last Friday. My mother was prepared for the death of his dad, saying it was for the better. He was 96. When he heard the news, Lab said he imagined our grandfather being lifted into the sky by red balloons. We were never close; my grandfather lived too far from us and by the time I was born, Alzheimer's was slowly engulfing him
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now i am trying to get to know more about his life. and i found this great picture of him during WWII, when he was in the FFL... somehow getting a grip of who hewas when he was my age helped soothing the remorse.
I send you all my thoughts...
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