is it possible to say good-bye when you've never even said hello?

I never met my maternal grandfather. He died in a plane crash in northern Canada when my mom was only 6 years old. I know very little about him. He was a geologist, he played basketball at Brandon College in Manitoba in the mid-30s, his senior high school yearbook message from his classmates closed with "Happy landings, Jimmy". His name was James MacGregor. Looking at photos of him, I always felt he and I would have been thick as thieves, if we'd ever had the chance to meet.

He bought the moccasins LB is wearing in this photo for my mother. They are handmade by natives of northern Canada. I wore them when I was her age:

This weekend I learned that he is buried 10 minutes away from where I used to live, and 30 minutes away from where I currently live. My maternal grandmother is buried there, too. She passed away when I was 3.

Next weekend I plan to visit the spots where they were buried. Somewhere on this earth, I believe they are both off living their next lives. I hope they are good ones.