see you again soon...

My grandpa died two days ago. He battled stomach cancer for almost a year, and I am so proud of him. He is the first grandparent I have lost, so I suppose that makes me pretty lucky - I have had the chance to make many memories of him, grandma, and the farm. Of course I think my grandpa is amazing. First and foremost he has six daughters. Six! No boys. One bathroom. You do the math. School mornings could not have been pleasant around that house. Yikes. My mom is the oldest, so she had to do "boy" things like drive a tractor to help out. She said she only fell asleep at a few times. Oh, how his patience must have been tested raising all those girls with grandma.

There are a few things that come to mind most when thinking of grandpa. He loved, loved Pepsi. I remember bottles and bottles and cans packed into the fridge in the shop. But he never drank it straight from the can. He liked it ice cold, poured into a glass. Even as he got older and the doctors suggested cutting back on sugar, he stuck by Pepsi like a best friend. I remember making him a glass, with added water (at his request) to weaken it a little. Man, that was dedication.

The other thing I remember, and will miss the most was his jokes, and the way he laughed at a good story. Grandpa always had a blonde joke for me and the other blonde grandkids. He delivered mail up until the cancer set-in (talk about a hard worker) and the people along his route always passed on the good jokes to him. He would tell it to all of our eager ears, and I never heard the same one twice. My uncles always had jokes for him too, that he could pass along. And when he got tickled he would laugh out loud, with his hand on his over his eyes, and shaking his head back in forth. That's when you know you told a good one. I know I will miss that.

Some of the favorite childhood memories I have are out on the farm. All of his girls grew up and had babies, leaving nineteen grandchildren for grandpa and grandma to spoil. And did they ever. Maybe not the way some grandparents do, with lavish gifts and such, but I thought it was even better than that. Every summer we got to go on a week visit with three or four other cousins. We played in the tree rows for hours upon hours. Built forts, booby traps, hideaways, and escape paths. That farm was a little piece of heaven for our make-believe days. Of course grandpa did not appreciate us using the tree-clippers to chop down branches that were in our way, or to clear a bigger path for our crazy imaginations, but he forgave us. Eventually.

At night we would settle in for movies with the lights off, all cozied up on blankets and draped over couches, anywhere you could find a seat. Then grandma would bring out a big bowl of ice cream or Doritos or popcorn, and grandpa would cut apple "O's" for us to munch on during the show. I don't think I ever really enjoyed the movies we watched, but that never seemed to matter, because we were all so content sitting together.

We, the older ones, continued those farm trips clear up to high school. The little ones still visit. I hope they have as much fun as we always did. And got into as much trouble. There are so many stories I would love to share about him and the time on the farm. I think of them and can't help grinning. I will remember them forever. We all will.

I know grandpa was ready to go. He wasn't used to being trapped to a bed when there was work to be done. And although I will miss him terribly, we all will, I am so happy he no longer has to work or worry, about how to make ends meet, or if the crops were going to get hailed out again this year. I hope he knows how much he is loved. And that he will never be forgotten.

I love you grandpa.