So today was a longish day. Woke up pretty early and made our way out to the hospital to see for perhaps the last time my grandpa. The man who used to make wooden toys for us and had a yard full of wooden "whirlygigs" furiously twirling in the wind. A man who served as a seabee in WWII. Who I vaguely remember taking us fishing in an old boat with blue seats. I can remember random Christmas presents he gave to my sister and I. I have a memory of being small and crying for some forgotten reason and him hugging me. I remember breakfast at his house and I remember him at my grandmas funeral. Every thanksgiving he tells the same story about a pecan pie he made with only 2 eggs, and every year we listen like its the first time, and I will think of it every year. I gave him a kiss and told him it was ok to let go if he wants to. I have no way of knowing if he heard or understood my words.