Farewell, Pop

My wife's grandfather passed away on St. Patrick's Day.
For the 16 years I knew him, I never had a problem
with him. He DID enjoy riling up his daughter (my
mother-in-law), but it worked for them, in some weird
way. And it saved me the effort. He was a fantastic
great-grandfather and friend to my son.

What sucked was, he had moved from here on the east
coast out to Washington state to live with one of his sons
because that son "had plenty of room, his wife was a nurse
and she could help take care of him."

Instead, they used his life's savings to remodel their house and
then stuck him in a nursing home when his cash ran out.
My wife and mother-in-law had flown out there to visit awhile
ago, seen what was happening (while they were visiting - before
he was even put into the nursing home - he begged them to "get
me the hell out of here") and were in the process of intervening
(getting back power-of-attorney, etc.) but it turned out to be to late.
He died a week after his son put him in the nursing home.

He deserved a better exit.