It's a sad week

My grandpa died yesterday. He was 89, but for some reason I could never remember that. I have always been two years short.
Anyway, he has been "rescued." That's how my 4-year-old son thinks of it. A child's mind is a thing of wonder.
Tomorrow night is the funeral service; closed-casket because he didn't like the thought of people looking at him after he died.
I have a lot of great memories of my grandpa. Every time my brother and I would go to his house, we'd knock on the door and he would say the same thing:
"Nobody here but us chickens, Boss."
He could make anything with his hands, and he used to turn down his hearing aids so he couldn't hear Grandma chirping at him.
I love him.
I am worried the most, though, about my mom. She has lost her parents and her husband, all in the last five years.
She's strong, intelligent, independent, classy and a simple kind of beautiful only God could create.
I still worry about her.