Two weeks ago, my grandfather passed away at ninety-six. It’s been something of a whirlwind couple of weeks. I did the only thing I ever know to do. I took lots of pictures.
Death feels like such an exotic thing sometimes, but then suddenly you’re going through someone’s possessions with a simple purpose: they don’t need anything anymore. We will all be buried in our nicest set of clothes, and everything else will disperse into the world.