Grandpa died exactly one year ago today. He was, by far, one of the greatest men I ever knew. Everyone dies though; it is a part of life. My sisters have been re-living the events and re-mourning to remember him. I would like to just pay tribute to his memory. Yes, I'm saddened, and yes, it still hurts, but I don't think that ornery fucker would want everybody running around moping...this is the man who hollered at Grandma to 'bring him a hatchet' because he was having trouble opening a Little Debbie oatmeal cream cookie...He'd look at me, grin, and say "Your grandma suffers from CRS, you know what that is?.....Can't remember shit!" He'd be laying down resting, and when I'd go in to check on him and chit chat a little, and ask how he was doing he'd say things like "Oh, I'll survive..." then he'd grin and add "At least until I die"

Cantankerous old fart! He'd pick us up after school, and I can remember my first taste of beer and drag off of a cigar...I was in grade school...and these took place in the van when he CAME TO PICK US UP...and he'd stop at the liquor store for another case of beer before we went back to their house...with an open can of beer in the console...but it still amuses me.

He wasn't perfect, but he was a wonderful man...he loved all six of his granddaughters, and did everything he could to make us happy. I was terrified of him finding out I was a lesbian (the age thing...older people usually don't approve) and grandma told me not to tell him, but a few months before he died my father accidentally outed me to him, and all grandpa wanted was to meet my future (at the time) wife...he didn't care, he loved me all the same. His memory will go on through all of us grandchildren and the two great-grandchildren; maybe we'll meet again on the other side, who knows?

Thanks for listening...gonna have a shot of whiskey in his honor, and listen to a sad song (or two) then get on with my day...