life as understood

I suppose this is as much for me as for anyone else. I've been pondering for days upon how to write this, so as to show utmost respect on this measly site for a man who has meant so much to so many. My beloved grandfather, Dr. T. H. Carr passed away in Idaho Falls on Friday at about 5:00. Until I went off to college, we lived just down the street from each other for my entire life, and I spent time there with him almost every week at some point. He's had a grab bag of various health problems for about the past 20 years or so, but he really took a turn for the worse this last summer at around Father's Day, when Sarah and I were too far away. He was an incredibly selfless man who sacrificed his time making others whole as a surgeon for many decades. As a retiree, he remained in constant pursuit of knowledge, having been engaged in learning about science, current events, sports, and all of the finer things. He cared about his family above all, claiming the theory of heterosis, which is that each generation improves upon the one previous. In speaking of this, he set the bar rather high for those of us left behind, as he himself lived a model life. I will continue to value his opinion as a man of great balance and integrity. I know he was proud of the man I've become to this point, the girl I've chosen for a wife, and my plans for the future. His pride helps to justify my own decisions.

Any attempt at documenting memories, personal sacrifices he made for me, or examples of insights he instilled within me, opening my mind to a world where people are and can be intrinsically good, is in vain. There's simply too much. I wish he could have seen me graduate from college (he missed it by a week), as I've reveled in his level reactions and advice to each of my short life's milestones thus far. I received a card in the mail yesterday, postmarked the day he died but before they had any idea, congratulating me on my achievement, signed with love from Grandma and Grandpa. That, it appears, will have to do. Fortunately, I have a lifetime worth of assurance that doing what Grandpa would have done will be a pretty safe mantra to follow. And I know he's still there, fidgeting around in his chair, waiting, and being proud.