So, since I wrote my "speech" like I was writing a blog post, I thought it only appropriate to share it with all of you, the people I share just about everything with.
Before I get to that, I have a little side note... I have received many emails in the last few weeks from readers of my blog. I want to let you all know that I am not ignoring your emails. I love hearing from you and fully plan on writing you back. I have spent so much time and energy (energy that I don't have) with my grandpa in the last few weeks while he went from the hospital, to the nursing home, back to the hospital, to hospice, and finally, laid to rest. I have had to spend what little energy I have left over with my family and on the many fundraisers I have committed myself to. I will be catching up on emails and blog comments in the upcoming week(s). Thank you for your patience and understanding.
Now, to my grandpa, who I love dearly. May you rest in peace...
Why do I love my grandfather? Let me count the ways...

He was kind. No matter who you are, my grandpa treated you with respect. My grandpa grew up in a day and age that not everyone was treated equal. He was no different. Many times I would question my grandfather's views on people who are different than you and I. I didn't always agree with the things he said. However, he always seemed to surprise me. Anytime we were out and about together I saw a completely different person than I expected to see. I didn't see a person who treated people poorly based on the color of their skin or the religion they practiced. I saw a person who respected everyone equally... who treated everyone with kindness.

He was smart. I loved to sit and talk to my grandpa. We would just sit and talk for hours. We would talk about the war, his service station, current events, or whatever else we would randomly come up with to talk about. I may not have agreed with all of his opinions, but I respected them none the less. He had a reason for believing what he believed. His life experiences gave him a view on life and I respected that. I may not have agreed with it, but I respected it.
He was funny. He was ALWAYS making me laugh. Always. I think his main goal was to make me smile. If that's true, he succeeded. He was always joking and playing around, when all he really had to do was look at you with his infectious smile. He was joking so often that I didn't know when he was serious. When I was a child, I had gotten in trouble one time (I was such an angel of a child, you see). I was staying with my grandparents, as I often did during the summer as a child, and had gone across the street to visit with the neighbor without telling my grandparents. When grandpa finally tracked me down he was, obviously, very upset. He grabbed my hand and sternly walked me across the street. As he did so, he said something to me to let me know how upset he was. I laughed. Yep... laughed. He immediately let me know that he wasn't joking. I always remember that day as the one day my grandpa wasn't kidding.

I have spent a LOT of time with my grandpa. However, it's not the empty time that won't be filled that I'll miss. What I'll miss is the lessons I learn by talking to and being around my grandpa, the smile and laughter I always have when I'm with him, the kindness I experience when I'm around him, and most of all the enormous amount of love that I feel by being with him.
1 comment:
Losing a grandpa after breaking a hip is something sorrow filled. I know..
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