He was supposed to celebrate his 97th birthday in 54 days.

He fell asleep and never woke up.
He never lost his sense of humor. He was always stubborn.
He had a golden heart, one of the kindest men ever known,
never asked for money, gave everything he ever could. His
jobs were perfectly made. He worked from early childhood
until the age of 88. He helped whenever he could, and tried
also when he obviously couldn't. He offered help, all the
time, denied money offers. He never missed a chance to
argue. He never wanted help, "I can do it myself"... He
never even wore glasses. He was the strongest-minded
atheist; he would argue every religious person he saw on
the street, trying madly to convince everyone that there is
no
one up there listening to anything. We thought we lost him
many times, but as an ox he would recover from every
disaster. He was a master of games, lucid-minded until the
last day. He couldn't lose a game, he'd always insist for
another. Every meal served "was the best meal ever", so he
used to say. He hadn't left us money, but wonderful
memories, and great hands and mind... He lived on the money
of his loving family, for all those years he did so much
for
us, and refused to receive every penny offered. Everybody
loved him. He had a mind of his own.

What matters it all now?

If he only knew they said this religious pray for his soul.
"O, you fools! Do you think somebody's listening?!" he
would
have said. These religious enforced laws, if he only
knew...
Dad said to me, "If there was anything like heaven and
hell... Oh how he would have argued them, they would send
him to heaven just so he'd leave them alone, they just
wouldn't make it arguing him".
Once my grandfather and him, my great grandfather, flied to
visit the family in South-Africa. My grandpa didn't want to
sit next to his father; he expected an argument and avoided
it. My great grandpa coincidently, sat next to a religious
person. After an hour the man stood up shouting "I CAN'T
SIT HERE ANYMORE!" heh, I think he managed to convince him
that God wasn't there then...

I never had the time to speak to him of this, never had the
time to learn how to play Klabias (a South-African / Dutch
card game) with more than two people, so many things he
haven't yet done, but he have seen all the changes in a
hundred years, from nothing to all this current technology.

I cried so hard when they just put him in the ground, like
a piece of junk. You want no one to see you putting there
anyone, to rot like a meaningless object- yet knowing there
is nothing I can do or say about it.

There went 97 years of wisdom and a wonderful unique world
of beautiful thoughts to the grave, to a vain nothingness,
to banish from the world forever.

...
and now I start digesting, I will never see him again.

If he only knew how much I love who he was... As if
anything matters now.

Last time I saw him, I had a feeling it might be the last
time, but I had this hope, that as always, he will be back.
He told me "Don't look sad, you are young, and I am old".
He just didn't recover this time.


-Infernity.