in passing

Happiness is: grandparents die, parents die, you die.

Zen koan as told by b1-66er

My bumpa -- my mother's father, the man who calls all 5 feet 12 of me "Sky" -- just passed. He spent his last days in Hospice care, going out gentle and slow, with his whole big brood of kids around him.

He passed in Phoenix, but we'll scatter his ashes later this summer in Napa, were he raised his children and assorted livestock, and buried half the population of nearby Mill Valley, as the owner and operator of the Russell & Gooch Funeral Home.

Safe home, Bumpa.


p.s. here are a few stories about Bumpa:
• Bumpa and the hobos »
• Crabs for lunch »
• Bumpa in Robin Hood »