My grandfather, Poppy, died of a heart attack and died in his sleep. I found him the next morning on the floor next to his bed, with his left arm stretched out.
Two years later, he came one night, stood at the end of my bed, and said: "Take care of your mother".
That same year, my father joined an International Organization and we left the country.
Now, I have not had the best of a relationship with my mom. She kept a couple of my secrets hostage, threatening to share with my Dad for many years, until I sobered up and started our relationship in 1999.
Alzheimer's started the long goodbye in 2007;
Now I am only family here, she thinks I am her sister, it's always Sunday and so on.
I follow Poppy's message to this day.