Today I was informed that a friend of my grandfather's had died. It had seemed that it wouldn't be much longer, but the doctors ought to be sued for malpractice. Jack had been bleeding internally, so the doctors were running some tests. In the meantime, instead of giving him blood, they gave him blood thinner.
Yet it isn't the way he died that hurts so much, as it is the fact that he was one of the last links to my grandfather.
My grandfather was an amazing man with so much love, and whom I loved dearly (and still do). After surviving the Holocaust, Grandpa returned to Greece and joined the Army to fight the communists in the civil war. Once he had served, he came to America to make his way. He overcame great odds, and is an inspiration to me still.
Jack was a kind man, and though I still don't know as much about him as I would have liked, he will be missed.
In all of this, I feel like I am losing my grandfather all over again. Goodbye, Jack, and goodbye again Grandpa Jack.
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