I'll never forget my grandfather's last words to me before he kicked the bucket....

They were "how far d'ya think I can kick this bucket?" He was in a hospital bed at the time, of course, and there were naturally no buckets anywhere to be seen. The medicines they gave him to hold back the pain had been playing tricks on his mind all week as we all waited in shifts for the inevitable, but his eyes were so clear and filled with a desperation I'd never seen before, and those final words seemed somehow much more significant than previous similar outbursts. Sometimes we still puzzle over what he could have meant. But of course we'll never know.

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