A shame, isn't it?

I have a grandson. Josh. Age 28. He died the day before yesterday. Drowned. In a boating accident. On a lake in Wisconsin. Didn’t know how to swim. Fate. It happened. Nothing I can do about it. Can’t be undone. Sad, isn’t it? Would have been nice if he had lived til 80 or 90. And died of Alzheimer’s. But even then, his death would have been lamented. In part, because Alzheimer’s is deemed a very cruel disease. A bad, bad way to die. But there are far worse ways. Demonstrated by Josh’s early demise. Long before he had lived to old age. I didn’t know Josh well. Hadn’t seen him in many, many years. Maybe that makes it a little easier for a grandfather. Not really knowing someone. Intimately. Fondly. Besides, he was my step grandchild. Makes for even a little more distance. I won’t even cry. A few days ago Josh was up and walking around. Presumably savoring life. He had no idea he was about to die. Tragically. He’s being cremated. So by this time, he may just be ashes. No longer a physical being. Guess there won’t be a formal funeral. Maybe a memorial service later on. They’ll let me know. Anyway, I really don’t have many memories of Josh. He was the product of a broken marriage. So maybe even his father sort of lost track of his son. Let alone his grandfather. Makes me wonder if Josh will be properly mourned. Well, I’m assuming Josh has a spirit. That’s still alive and well. Maybe he’ll read this. The lament of a grandfather who never really knew him. A shame, isn’t it? –Jim Broede