May 10th at 3:04 PM, you finally left us. 
Finally. 
Please understand that I never wanted you to go
But you were not you the last couple of years. 
The dementia got to you a long time ago. 

I remember you changing. 
When you couldn't drive anymore so we took away your license
And you screamed at us to shoot you out in the pasture
Like an old sheep dog that could no longer herd the flock. 
You had never yelled before, but
I get it now. 
We were the flock and you just wanted to keep us together. 
You wanted to provide, to lead, and to shelter us
And you did for 60 years.
But even in those last couple months
Of bed ridden, drowsy mumbles and sleep, 
You were the reason we all came together. 
It has always been you. 

I walk into your bedroom and your body is there
But it is clear that you are not. 
I set next to it and it finally hits me how white your skin has become 
So aged, so wrinkled with time. 
I grab your hand and it is the first time I touch you and feel cold. 
Nothingness. 
And to be honest, 
It brings me peace. 

You are everywhere to me. 
You are in these Edmonton streets, 
Commerce place, catching me skipping school but promising not to tell Mom.
You are in Waterton Lakes, Jasper and Banff
Charging ahead on every hiking trail while the rest of us struggle for breath behind you.
You are in the first snowfall, 
Unpacking the toboggans from the garage and getting all of us grandkids riled up and wild. 
You are in the still night air, 
Awake in your office at 3 AM, reading old law books and flipping through photo albums.

You are free now, 
Gramps, but
You will never be gone. 

Written fall of 2016