Last man standing.

Yesterday I lost my only living grandparent. What a strange thing to write.

Grandpa Neveau, or "GG" as Alex called him, died early yesterday morning. He was in hospice, so we knew it was coming...but you're never really ready for that.

You know that Hollywood image of what a Grandpa should be?  Witty. A little bit raunchy. Lover of music. Inappropriate in a hilarious way. Outdoorsman extraordinaire. That was GG. A product of his generation, he was the perfect blend of rough around the edges and "come on over here and sit on my knee." And you always knew when he was up to something with that "shit-eatin'" grin on his face. (His words, not mine. He was full of one-liners like that.)

His last smile on Earth was something I will cherish forever. It was on Saturday afternoon in the hospice home, and he was in and out of his groggy state. Alex and Joe had just arrived, and Alex trotted over to the chair I was sitting in at his bedside and said "Hi GG. You don't feel good." Hearing this, GG opened his eyes and in a moment that I know was filled with absolutely perfect clarity, he smiled and said one of his signature phrases, "Weeeeeeelllllllllllllll." (In that deep, drawn out voice.) He didn't open his eyes after that.

Grandpa loved babies. He didn't love when they were crying--and was always quick to hand them back when they were. I know that he and Grandma are up in Heaven, and...well, he's probably out fishing right now, to be honest. But when he gets back, he'll meet Grandma and rock my sweet tWIPs until I get there.