Knowing something is coming doesn’t make it any easier. My grandpa, nicknamed “Boppa” by my sister when she was little, had been pretty sick the last few weeks. But, while expected, his death today hit me very hard. It’s hard to imagine life without the man whom I lived near for the last 17 years. No longer will he sit at the head of the dinner table on Sabbath afternoons or drive his power wheelchair at full speed through the house with no regard for anything in his path. Last Thursday, my mom called to tell us that it...