last week my family found out that my step-grandfather, the one i stayed with in england, had passed away.david was a friendly man who really loved living the way he did - he smoked, he drank, he ate junk food all the time and he still managed to live til his early seventies.
we always told david to quit that shit, but he just couldn't, he truly liked living the way he did and what's wrong with that? he didn't have a family to look after or anything. he was just a swell guy who liked going to the pub.
as with all the other family deaths i went through the process of shock, then i cried for a few minutes, and then that was it. i think i was more shocked at his death because it was so sudden. he hadn't been in the hospital battling something, like my granny with cancer or my uncle with the well.. everything. also, i think it's good he went this way - i'm sure diabetes or some kind of cancer would've eventually nipped him and that would've been much more painful.
he's been cremated. no funeral service. i was a little troubled at hearing this. my sister said "he wouldn't have cared... david never thought about death, all he cared about was life." true, but still.. i find it a little disrespectful. i'm pretty sure his neighbours managed to make some sort of memorial service for him though, he wasn't completely friendless in london. in fact i think he had a lady friend, i'm pretty sure he mentioned her while i was there.i remember the story about one of my cousins who thought his name was "hellodavid" because that's how everyone greeted him. so he would call him hellodavid and everyone would laugh and laugh. including david of course.
he really like marlboros and scotch. so my dad made sure i purchased a bottle of whiskey and a great big box o' smokes in the duty free shop in the airport before meeting him. he was quite happy when he saw me at heathrow, and i think a little nostalgic because later he told me that i look a lot like my granny.
rest in peace old man.
