
Today would have been my grandfathers 101st birthday. He passed away six years ago at 95. His life was very full and complete. Marked by huge blessings and a few tragedies. He brought joy to many and as most great personalities could be a giant pain in the rear.
He wasn't a great dad. But he made that up to my dad by being an AMAZING grandfather and a fantastic adult father. His purpose during retirement was to make memories for his grand kids.
Memories that bring such complete happiness I am weeping as I think about them.
Mardi Gras parades.
Rolling down the levy.
Catching lizards.
Allowing Eddie Jr. to feed me a chili pepper and tell me it was a strawberry.
Eating at Mason's.
Money ties for Eddie and the donkey for me.
Big parties.
HUGE celebrations.
Big hugs.
Spending hours laughing at watching Ann of Green Gables on rewind.
Thanksgiving parade.
Being a grump. But also being the life of the party.
The house where I spent my youth had overhang cabinets above the kitchen "bar" counter. My grandpa was completely bald (with a few white hairs sticking out) in every picture I have seen of him over the age of thirty. Every time he came to our house (about once a month) he hit his head so hard on that overhand that he would cut his poor, bald head.
He made this big scene. Think "Three Stooges" physical comedy. We laughed.
I was twenty nine years old before I finally realized that he was in real pain from knocking his noggin on that darn overhang. But making fun memories for Eddie and I was more important than getting a moment of sympathy from everyone.
You are truly missed. Completely and fully. Not a day goes by that a story does not cross my mind, lips or heart. You would be proud to know that your beloved son is doing an excellent job becoming the same grandfather you were to Eddie and I. Thanks for being a great teacher to him.
You are loved by all.
P.S.: I still have the donkey and have to display it on my birthday. Really, a birthday is not a birthday without that donkey. And for the record, even if it is worth a million dollars I am not selling it.