Sweetness

Our 13 year old son, Jacob Gilbert, decided that he did not want to come to Grandpa's deathbed. I was so fine with that. I assured him that Grandpa knew how much he loved him, and loved him back. I told him he had a special bond that he would carry his whole life: his middle name.

Once Frank and I got to the hospital, the night we transferred Gib to comfort care, Frank's cell rang. It was Jake. He had changed his mind. And so Frank went back to get him.

Once here, Jake did not really know what to do or say. None of us do, actually. My acoustic guitar is here, so I suggested that Jake play it softly. Jacob is mega talented on the electric guitar, like not just mom-brag talented, but really rocks the house. However, I encouraged him to play nice and soft and soothing for his grandpa.

He started in, and then he lit up. "Mom," he said, "I know just what to play!"
"What?" I asked.
"Stairway to Heaven."

Whew. How appropriate is that?

So Gib got a little Led Zeppelin thrown in for good measure…