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27 Dec 2006, 10:10 am / Other
Yesterday morning (12-26-06) my grandpa passed away at the age of 85. For the past year and a half he had been fighting low blood levels as a result of stomach cancer. Since Saturday he had been in and out of the hospital three times, recieved blood, but wasn't feeling any better. I was able to spend some Christmas morning which was great. Everybody pretty much understood that he might not make it through the night, and I think even he knew. The whole family is in good spirts, but working on very little sleep. There is a lot of work to be done.
My grandma and grandpa live just a few miles down the road from our house. As a kid, I was raised next door to them on their farm. When you grow up on a farm like that, everybody becomes very close. They took care of my sister and I during the times when parents were gone. It's hard to believe my grandpa was born in 1921. That means he was 6 when Lindburgh crossed the Atlantic. He was 20 when the US entered WWII, but he had a medical deferment. He farmed from the time he was a little boy up until 1991. My grandpa was also the luckiest guy I've ever known. Just last week he won over $3000 on a slot machine at the dog track. It's hard to believe he's not around, but everybody is glad that he didn't suffer and died peacefully around family.
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