The most peaceful departure, dear Dordie. With your incredible wife at your side. 66 years of devoted marriage.
You have always just been there. My Grandfather. Wise. With a toothy smile. And one leg.
I've always been a bit fascinated with your one and a stump. I remember when I was much shorter, climbing into your huge, warm bed - cosy in-between you and my grandmother. And you'd swivel to the side to put on your leg. And I definitely did stare at where it should have been. But wasn't.
Reading through your wartime memories fills me with awe. The truest of bravery. And strength. And my grandmother, too. An evacuee. Living without her family for so long...
You just managed to reach your 66th wedding anniversary. Even if you were in bed and not saying much... you knew. You knew you were there. Not only at your anniversary, but there in your dying days. The time had come, and you let it.
You said, "I'm alright". And I think you were.