She went to a musical, and a movie and her Birthday lunch at red lobster. She told Greg, “I don’t know who you are, but I know I love you.” And she always knew me. She was clean and calm and basically relaxed. She recognized old pictures and we talked a lot. If you write to her, she may not open the envelope, but if you send a postcard, she will know what the picture is of, and recognize your name.
After I wrote this, and made my multiple copies yesterday, we got a call late at night to let us know that the Flu had turned into pneumonia and Greg's Dad was in the hospital in Rapid City, SD with a Do NotResuscitate order on file, and would not survive long. Before another hour passed, Grandpa Harvey died with his name-sake son holding his hand. So our Amtrak tickets and adventure will now be spent going to a memorial service and a sadder Christmas. Still, wishing He had met his California great-grandchildren, but knowing that his love and spirit is carried in them and always shall be. We are so lucky to have had this hard working, hard-playing, loving and loyal family man for so long.