He died two days ago, after a hundred years.
He had lost some faculties in the last few years, one of them was his memory and his ability to map who-is-who. [I stand corrected. He was 99, when he died, and was extremely attentive and alert till his last breath. He never lost his memory. He was perfectly fine.] My grand-uncle, who I wasn’t close to in his last few years, called it a day, or, perhaps a century. My childhood memories of being with him are fresh as today morning. If I ever learnt the value of presence it was from him. If he walked into a room full of people, there was little else that those people noticed. His nieces and nephews (my uncles and aunts) are somewhat relieved; it was difficult to see him suffering.
Notwithstanding what my uncles and aunts thought, I remember him as a strong person, nay – a strong personality. Our lives are a coalescence of what we can (or cannot) extract of personalities that we meet with. My grand-uncle, fondly called Nana, by all and sundry, never ever taught me anything, but helped me learn one thing for sure.
Be Good. Do good.