Ann and Jack are together again.

My grandfather, Jack Wolff, passed away this afternoon in Buffalo, he was 83. My family is incredibly close, and this caught us all off guard. It was a sudden, and hopefully peaceful final day. Thursday (Veteran’s Day) I called him to say hello, and we ended up talking for around 15 minutes, with us looking forward to seeing each other next week for the holidays. I would later find out my sister gave him a call that afternoon, and it would be the last time we talked to him. Mom would let us both know how happy he was to hear from us both that night. His death was very unexpected, as he looked and felt healthy always, until he complained of a stomach ache Saturday.
My grandfather was a quiet, proud man, who loved his wife and family more then anything else. Every Christmas he and Grandma would come over early and cook a big breakfast. Whenever they took myself and Katie out, I would always ride shotgun, with the two girls in back, eating as many root beer hard candies as they would allow.
Ever since grandma died in my freshman year, he became even closer to my immediate family. My mother was a saint in keeping him company and cooking for him. One of my favorite memories is stopping over to have dinner with him about 3 years back. It was just the two of us, talking like old friends and watching the hockey playoffs. Anyone in the family could tell you that he always thought he was the richest man in the world for having such a great family. I can only hope to lead a life as rewarding as his.