I started this post several weeks ago - but couldn't finish it... until now.
As it turns out, Inspector Climate is a very lucky 27 year old and not because he got to marry me. Until last week, Inspector Climate had four alive and reasonably healthy grandparents. FOUR.
That was until Tuesday happened. And his paternal grandfather (PG), who was healthy, passed away within 12 hours of collapsing.
The funeral was yesterday and it was both heartbreaking and full of love and celebration of a well spent 84 year old life.
I only knew PG for a few years. But I wanted to jot dot some memories before they fade over time.
The last time we spent any quality time with PG, he sat Inspector Climate down and said "You want to know how to keep a 60 year old marriage happy? Never tell your wife that she is F. A. T."
He loved talking to me about his one trip over seas to Chicago and getting out the atlas so I could show him the town I'm from in the US.
He loved telling me about Inspector Climate's heritage (Inspector Climate's ancestors were some of the first convicts to come to Australia) about how they went to Tasmania to do more research about their convict past.
Inspector Climate was the first of his grandchildren to get married, and I'm so happy that he got to be there at our Australian wedding. He hugged me after the ceremony and told me how happy he was that I was part of the family now. He called me Mrs. Inspector Climate even though I eventually decided to not change my name - and when anyone else does it, I grit my teeth and tell myself that I shouldn't yell at them, but when he did it - it didn't seem quite so awful.
While I was struggling with some serious homesickness during the funeral - the way I was included and embraced in the Climate family is certainly part of PG's legacy. There is no "non" cliche way to say it, but family came first to him - and I'm family.