I am so thankful I was able to spend time with him, kiss his cheeks and hold his hand.
He shared stories with me that will never forget. One in particular was when he was sixteen years old his little brother (age 9) accidentally died while swinging from a tree outside their home. He told me, with tears streaming down his cheeks, how that event changed his life forever and that he named his first born son, my father, after his beloved brother.
The greatest gift he gave me was when it was time for us to leave. He winked at me and said Goodbye darlin'.
If there is such a thing, I swear I felt my heart smile and I took it as his way of telling me it was all going to be okay.
I love you, Grandpa!
(Grandpa (on right) with his buddy from the Coast Guard)
3 comments:
That was a wonderful post. Thank you. It's good that you got those feelings out and down on (internet) paper. My mind is all mush - and I'm hoping this weekend spent at my grandfathers funeral will help me collect my thoughts better :)
Pictures and words make everything better - don't ya think?
He sure looks like your dad. I love the tattoo photo. Maybe, Jeff and Bob should get matching tattoos. You know, keeping with your family tradition.
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