He's like a cat, I'd always say. Speaking of my grandfather, of course. You know cats and 9 lives and stuff. That was Granddaddy: the 9+++ life wonder. From congenital heart failure, to weak knees, to pace maker problems, to pneumonia, this was a man who was no stranger to the adventure of growing old.
The Moore gang celebrating Granddaddy's 90 years last summer.
But that's just it, he wasn't old. I mean, sure his 91st birthday is 5 days away and he had all the pains associated with an older body. My key word in that there sentence? Body. His body might have appeared to be old, but his mind was as young as ever. Granddaddy would always claim to be senile which was about as laughable as saying I'm athletic. Sure, he would forget the usual things like Where are those keys? What'd I eat for lunch? or I thought I left the remote there... And sure, I can dance and pirouette circles around any Tom, Dick, Or Jane, but playing sports just ain't ever gonna happen. And Granddaddy forgetting life stories or current events or any information about family? Not happenin'.
That's what happens when you're a reporter, apparently. Your mind stays sharp as a tack. Yes, I did just give you the secret to staying young! Tomorrow there will suddenly be an outrageous number of new reporting/journalist prospects all because Emily said your mind never leaves you, even when you're 90. It may not be true for every reporter, but it was true for Ray Moore.
Ray Moore. A first name and a really fun last name. Moore fun! Together, these two names mean so much to a world of journalism, a world of reporting, a world of history, a world of progression. Ray Moore, the legend. Ray Moore, the man who interviewed Bobby Kennedy, Martin Luther King Jr, and Robert Frost. Ray Moore, the man who hired Tom Brokaw. Ray Moore, the man who genuinely cared for everyone.
You can read more about his broadcasting endeavors here. The ABC affiliate in Atlanta did a sweet, sweet tribute to him on their 5 o'clock news last night.
But Ray Moore was/is Granddaddy to me. Granddaddy, the man who sent me an email after reading each post of my blog (seriously, number one blog fan right there). Granddaddy, the man who took me to Disney World for the first time. Granddaddy, the man who would always eat chocolate with me after any and every meal. Granddaddy, the man who used to play wedding with me when I was a kid.
Rather fitting since today marks one month until my real wedding.
Always signed emails with "I love you."
Last week Granddaddy fell and his head met the wall on the way down. Mind you, Granddaddy and falling have a love/hate relationship. Granddaddy would fall every now and then and hated it, but he was lucky enough to never break any bones. That equals the love part, maybe? He never suffered anything more than a cut or bruise. So when he appeared to be a-okay after this fall, no one thought twice about it. Long story short, the fall caused a detrimental brain bleed which didn't manifest until over 24 hours later. One of the last comments Granddaddy made before he became unresponsive was about how excited he was that 2 of his granddaughters had weddings coming up. He passed away early yesterday morning after a day full of the Moore's taking over his bedside with laughs, tears, and all the good stories.
Granddaddy, Claire Marie and I will do our darndest to give you the most wonderful two weddings you ever did see. Good thing you'll have the best seat in the house.
I love you.