This doesn't belong in the "Miscellaneous" category, so I'm going to leave it label-less.
Dad called a little while ago. It's been a couple weeks since our last conversation, during which I got some updates on Grandpa's condition, which was declining more rapidly than expected. He's in Fargo right now and was calling to tell me Grandpa died at 2:33 this morning. No pain, he said, and no suffering, due no doubt to the morphine the hospital was giving him. I'm upset and have been crying a lot. Dad's sisters will probably be making the trek back to North Dakota to complete arrangements for funerals and such; dad will probably e-mail the rest of us with details and a copy of the obituary.
Mom said, and I agree with her, that Grandpa was just ready. I suggested we go out and plant a tree for him because, right now, that's the only thing I can think of to do. I'll go downstairs and light the candles when I feel like I can do anything without crying myself hoarse, and when Samhain rolls around again, I'll do something more.