George pretended to be a tough guy, apart from affection, and a stand alone monolhytic figure. He failed miserably portraying that. Just gave him an afternoon, and you would saw who he truly was: a warm pancake covered in butter and syrup, sprinkled with integrity, and the desire to give you his heart and attention at the first opportunity. He was the absolutely best grandpa for my kids. The best cook I ever met. And the best target I ever had to bother somebody. I spent years trying to hug him, and to uncomb his hear. He never liked neither, he cursed me, and looked at me with despise, but the day before he passed away, he called me to tell me "I love you, Fernando". What better proof of attachment between two souls than that?
If I don't miss him now, it's just because I know he is present in the life of many people around me, and soon or later we'll end it up talking about him.