Michael John Nunis (20 March 1935 – 13 March 2012) was the only grandfather I ever really knew. He cherished his grandchildren dearly and never liked seeing us sad. Despite us being adults, he still insists that we’re still little kids; treating us to heaps of ice cream, candy and of course, food. The man loved his whiskey, and he did love his cigarettes. But more importantly, he loved his family.
My grandfather was a strong and proud man. He always said that he would never want to burden any of children or grandchildren and made it clear that he wanted to die in his own home. We never knew he was severely ill, until the day he left us. He knew his time was coming, and he welcomed Fate as it was meant to be. He kept his promise that his passing would be burden to anyone. But none of us were ever ready to bid farewell to the man we called Grandpa. His last moments were painful, but it was time, and the pain lasted for a short while.
I hate to see you go, Grandpa. You showered my cousins and I with love and affection that only a Grandfather could provide. You could tell that I was always troubled just by looking at me. Whatever mask I wear, you still know who that person is behind that facade. Wherever you are, Grandpa, you are always in our hearts.
I love you, Grandpa. We all love you.