I already said goodbye.

When I was a little girl, my Daddy Lou had Alzheimer’s. Being five, I misunderstood what my mother and father had told me.

I thought Daddy Lou had Old Timers.

As the years went by and I slowly started to better understand the surrounding world, I realized that it wasn’t normal for someone’s grandfather to forget who she was. And then Daddy Lou died of Old Timers, and I remember being very sad but more so confused.

After all, old people forget stuff. But not like that. A grandpa was supposed to greet you at the door with hugs and candy. Not quietly observe as your father explains that he’s bringing new socks.

So, yeah, Daddy Lou left us. But as far as I could tell, he had left long ago.

In the last handful of years, my step grandpa came down with Old Timers. And it’s been a steady decline through the months. He’d slowly go back through the years, forgetting our faces and relationships. He’d get angry and fussy (which he never was). And finally this weekend, he was freed from the torture of strangers and IVs and immobility and ignorance.

And like I was at the age of ten with Daddy Lou, I am sad. But I am even more relieved. Because I said goodbye to him a long time ago. As soon as I heard he had been diagnosed with Old Timers, I made my peace and watched the man who teased me for so many years (“You know there’s meat in that iced tea!”), who made me laugh and accepted my sister and me as his blood grandchildren, slowly leave us.

I miss Marvin. But I missed him years ago. I am glad he’s finally at peace and no longer afflicted with Old Timers.