It seems these things just keep coming in groups.

Poppa died today at 2:49. The cancer had come back as predicted, aggressive and rapid, but merciful in the fact that it didn't make things harder.

I have to say that I've been expecting this on another level, and had resigned myself to it.

Just a picture to carry in my mind - one I will leave here for another day to remember..

When he was a boy Poppa used to walk at to the cemetery next door to his home to read beneath the shade tree. He found hours of peace and quiet there and liked that spot better than any other for just collecting his thoughts and making up his mind.

We discovered today that he had bought those spaces under the tree some time ago. He wanted to be sure he would be buried there under his beloved old tree.

Now he's gone, but in my mind he's only slightly out of sight. I can see that standing at the back door and looking at the old tree, he's just blurred beyond my human sight. He's resting there beneath his favorite tree, enjoying the shade not so far away.