He died at around 11:30pm. I’m even sorry that I don’t know his real birthday. I do know that he was about 78 years old, so I did the math. He was my grandfather on my mother’s side, a very nice and cheerful fellow, until signs of Alzheimer’s Disease began showing about four years ago. He had been cared for at his home starting two years ago, and his health had declined ever since. More recent developments were the loss of the ability to talk, walk, and eventually move entirely. His last two or so days were spent in a semi-comatose state, at which point we just counted the minutes. The whole family has been expecting his death since the beginning of the summer, and while it is sad that he’s really gone, nobody is shocked. I believe his true death occurred about a year and a half ago, where he "metaphorically" died by becoming a person who wasn’t himself due to Alzheimer’s. That was by far the saddest part of it all - watching him disintegrate in front of my eyes. Seeing that happen to a man is far more disheartening than seeing him die after going through such a condition.

It must be a peaceful way to go, though, not knowing who you are or what you have.

EDIT: Thanks for letting me know the birthday. My mother also had told me.