So Morgan from Team Practical summed up pretty much anything I ever felt about my grandfathers dying and our wedding*,
"When Meg posted my plea for advice in January, many people mentioned moving up the wedding date, or trying to involve my father in the plans as much as possible. That just didn’t work for us. Partially because up to the week before he died, my mother was sure that he would make it, and partially because I got the feeling that he knew he wouldn’t, and in his mind I was already married. He lived long enough to meet my husband and to see me happy, and for that I am ever so grateful. As David said, “I’d like to make a toast to a man who, although I only got to know for a very brief time, always made me feel welcomed into his family. A man who so clearly wanted to have something to talk with me about he started reading the sports section and watching Flames games on TV. A man who, although he won’t get to see Morgan and I as husband and wife, very clearly approved of me marrying his daughter. A man who, for the last few months before his passing no longer referred to me as David but rather, ‘Morgan’s Hubby’.”"
Shortly after my father's father died, I told Mark that I had to marry him because he had met my Grandpa and I just couldn't imagine spending my life with somebody who hadn't known him. (This isn't really true, the reality was I couldn't imagine spending my life with anybody but Mark at this point anyway.) But there is still something very satisfying about the fact that my grandfathers lived long enough to meet my husband and to see me happy.
*I've been missing my mother's father a lot lately, mostly because I had this fleeting moment where I thought, "I could build my own letterpress!" And then I thought of the only other person in the world who I could have asked to build me my own letterpress. Who I could have called and he would have said, "oh, one of those things? I already have one. I built it for funsies."