Apparently I'm unusual in that not only did I know both of my grandfathers well (both lived near me for substantial parts of my childhood and adult life), I still had both of them well into my thirties, and the last of the two only passed away this year (he was 91; I'm now 40). Both grew up as dirt-poor Depression-era kids; both served in the military during WWII and went to college via the G.I. Bill; and both ended up becoming remarkably successful in their careers. Also, somewhat oddly, both of them lived well past my grandmothers, in one case by more than 20 years.
My paternal "Grandaddy" (dad's dad, the one who just passed away) was a sweetheart who grew up in the Deep South and had a thick head of hair up until the day he died (and it was naturally black until well into his 70s). He and my Granny lived ten minutes away from me until I was 12, and unfortunately Granny had an unexpected aneurysm and died when I was a college freshman. Grandaddy simply couldn't cope with living life as a single person, so he made the mistake of marrying a woman within a year of Granny's death who would turn out to be a cunt from hell. She successfully managed to alienate ALL of his friends and, unfortunately, almost all of his family as well, myself included. I tried to make up for it during his last couple of months of life, at which point his cunt wife suddenly became "constantly busy" with "church business" and would pop in to see him once or twice a week, even though he was still perfectly lucid and interested in the world. Oh, I guess I should mention that she pretty much killed him; he landed in the hospital ONLY because they got into a fight that led to him having a seizure. Although he had, for 20 years, stood steadfast by far, the fact that she nearly killed him was the breaking point; he declared flat-out -- to me directly, since my father doesn't live nearby and only my aunt and I were able to spend a substantial amount of time with him in his final months -- that he wanted a divorce as soon as he got out of the hospital. Unfortunately, that day never came; due to some elaborate medical complications, he passed away a couple of weeks later. Only afterwards did I find out his cunt wife had been milking my dad for money for years now, never mind the fact that my grandfather had a substantial pension and Social Security benefits and they lived in a large house in a country-club community. Dad, to his credit, cut her off immediately after the funeral, and none of us have heard from her since. We're pretty sure she'll be forced to sell their house and "downsize" her life -- no more new Lincolns every year and elaborate cruises! (It should come as no shock that she's estranged from her own two children as well.)
My "Grandpa," on my mom's side, was a Jekyll-and-Hyde type. To the outside world, he was always the gregarious flirt who'd walk two miles each way after retirement to the town village to talk and chat with all of the area shopkeepers, dental hygienists, waitresses, etc. You'd never know that the actual *point* of him walking all that way was to fill up on booze, and that he'd been a raging alcoholic most of his life, since well before I was born. He was an angry drunk, too, yelling at me for being too much of a "pussy" for refusing to tryout for my junior-high football squad, and ranting endlessly about how "the blacks and wetbacks are ruining this goddamn country." (The interesting irony here is that he himself was the son of two Italian immigrants who'd passed through Ellis Island a few years before he was born. My roots on my Grandaddy's side, however, date back nearly to the Mayflower.) Thankfully he mellowed a bit with age, and also after he finally quit drinking around the age of 75 (with a few relapses, particularly when my sainted Grandma passed away). He even found love again, with a lovely woman he met at the retirement center he moved to after Grandma died, but she, too, passed before he did. Finally he died quite suddenly, but peacefully, of a heart attack in his sleep.