Dean

I was in the shower when the phone rang, but I knew. I knew it was bad news. A part of me even knew what that bad news was. My heart sank.

I got out of the shower, and Cody told me to call B. She confirmed what in my heart I already knew. Dean had passed away during the night.

Dean was my mother's room mate. They weren't living together. They just lived in the same house. Dean is the closest person to a grandfather Cody ever really knew. My father died when Cody was only a baby, and he seldom sees his other grandfather. He and Dean were close. He didn't call him Grandpa, but in a very real way, he was Grandpa.

Dean had been ill for quite some time. I don't know what was wrong with him. Something with his lungs. He'd been on oxygen for years. The last few months, he really began going downhill fast. After his most recent hospital stay, my mother and brother decided not to even bring him home. Even with Scott there to help, he needed more care than they could give. (I wondered where Dean's kids were through all this.) He was put into a hospice.

Last night he finally let go. My mother stayed with him all night (again, I wondered where his kids were), until he drifted off. Peacefully. Without pain.

And he was gone.