Saturday, February 1, 2014

where we are at

My grandfather was a successful businessman.

Starting out as nothing more than an advertising manager for a brewery during Prohibition - you can imagine how promising a career that was - he built himself up to being one of the most prominent beverage distributors in outstate Michigan. He ran his own company, virtually single-handed, until he sold it in his 70s for a pretty penny.

Although not an arrogant man - he was friendly and well-liked, even by his employees, or so they told me - he was used to doing things for himself.

Which is why he felt so bewildered and at a loss when his previously rude health started suddenly to collapse, on several fronts at once, in his mid-80s. He had to give up control, and he couldn't do things for himself any more. His life quickly shrank to one small room with nurses in it. By then he was a widower, but it was a stressful and difficult time for his daughter and the rest of his family.

That was about thirty years ago now. It's moved down a generation.

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