My mom just called from Russia to tell me that my grandfather died. He has been slowly dying over the last several months and was a huge burden on my mom whom he abused her entire life in all kinds of ways (the picture you see is the one I took last time I saw him several years ago, he didn't want me to take it and turned away).
He died in her hands, happy. She said for the last couple of days his demeanor changed, as if he felt his end coming. He stopped screaming insults at her when she tried to feed him or change him, grew soft and thoughtful. Their last conversation, she said, was this:
"You're hurting. I'll call the ambulance," she said.
"No." He shook his head. "I don't need no ambulance."
"What do you need then? Is anything bothering you?"
Then she gave him a cup of tea. He smiled and expired.
He was an asshole and yet a very hurt human being. He had a violent childhood and lived through terrible abuse. Of course, it's not an excuse. I barely know him. I don't remember him from when I was little, and in my adult life I have seen him maybe 3 times. but I can't help it but to feel sorrow, and I'm devastated because I can't afford to fly out and see him, and on top of it my mom and my aunt have no money for the funeral. The realities of Russian life for you.
Here is the full obituary. Thank you for reading. Rest in piece, grandpa. I love you.