For most Americans, George H. W. Bush is remembered as the 41st President of the United States — a statesman, war hero, and patriarch of one of America’s most influential families. But for Jenna Bush Hager, he was simply “Gampy,” a loving grandfather whose wisdom, humor, and tenderness shaped her life in ways the public never saw. In her memoir, Everything Beautiful in Its Time, Jenna opens her heart to share stories of family, faith, and farewell — including her grandfather’s final, unforgettable words.

In October 2018, Jenna’s twin sister Barbara Pierce Bush married screenwriter Craig Coyne in an intimate ceremony at the Bush family’s beloved Kennebunkport estate. Their grandfather, then 94 and battling Parkinson’s disease, was frail but determined to celebrate the joyous occasion. As Jenna recalls, “We ate dinner at the same table where we’d shared countless meals over the years. Gampy sat between Barbara and me. The last words he ever spoke to her were, ‘You have never been more beautiful.’” A month later, George H. W. Bush passed away, joining his wife Barbara Bush, who had died just seven months earlier after 73 years of marriage.

Jenna’s memoir paints a portrait not of political figures, but of grandparents who embodied grace, humor, and faith until their final days. Her grandmother, “Ganny,” embraced the end of her life with the same sharp wit and strength that had defined her for decades. When she publicly announced she was forgoing further medical treatment to focus on comfort care, Jenna panicked — until she called her grandmother and heard her familiar voice answer brightly, “Hi, girls!” Even in her last days, Barbara Bush found joy in gossiping with friends and sipping cocktails. “That night, I slept well,” Jenna writes. “It didn’t sound like a woman on the cusp of death.” Two days later, her grandmother passed away peacefully at home — having watched televised tributes about her own life, commenting and laughing as only she could.

The loss of his wife shattered George H. W. Bush. Jenna recounts visiting him on his 93rd birthday and asking how he was coping. His response broke her heart: “I miss Ganny. I miss her so much. She was a great wife.” The former president wept openly as his granddaughter held him close. “We stayed that way for a long time,” Jenna remembers. “Tears soaking our collars.” Even in his pain, he found comfort in laughter, with younger family members recalling Barbara’s humor and resilience.

In her book, Jenna also writes about her father, George W. Bush, describing him as both protective and compassionate — a quiet source of strength who made her feel safe as a child and still grounds her as an adult. And she reflects on how fishing trips with her father and grandfather became sacred family rituals — quiet escapes where politics and public life faded away, leaving only love and connection.

Through grief and gratitude, Jenna’s reflections offer more than a glimpse into a presidential dynasty. They are a reminder that behind the power and the headlines are moments of tenderness — the kind that prove that even the most extraordinary families are, at their core, simply human.