My maternal grandfather, formerly a hale and hearty old chap with an amazing zest for life, was never the same after a debilitating stroke that happened several years back. Despite being closely cared for by friends and family (myself included), he was barely able to maintain a satisfactory quality of life. Tonight, he passed away from respiratory failure, aged eighty-five. Some might say it was a blessing, in light of how difficult his final months were. My rational side would agree, but it's currently being overshadowed by my emotional side - a state of affairs that's going to prevail for some time. The man was instrumental in raising me after my parents made their exit from my life. He was more a father than my actual father ever was. I'll miss him loads. 'Til we meet again, Granddad. Salut.