I found out today that my ex’s grandfather passed away last summer. In the three years that Ally and I were together, I got to know him a little. He was a POW in Hong Kong during the Second World War, and had many stories to tell. We watched cricket together (on occasion), talked about Hong Kong, and he used to speak whatever Mandarin he could remember to me. In the last few years, his memory and his health had been deteriorating, and so it was as expected as a death can be, I suppose.
RIP Stanley. You’re missed already.