kenderstest

I wanted to write a letter telling you all of the things you taught me. To point out the things you have passed onto me, and what an influence you have been to me.

But I didn't know what to write. I never realized until tonight how much we have in common, or what an impact you made on me over the years.

But listening to the family reminisce about you tonight caused me to see so much of myself in you, and gave me pause to wonder how different my life may have been without you in it.

Someone said tonight that "nobody could tell you nothing" and "once you made up your mind about what you were gonna do that there wasn't any changing your mind".

But they never once said you ever made a bad decision.

They said you were stubborn and outspoken, and would argue just to argue.

But they couldn't find one time that you were mistaken.

They said you drove too fast.

But they said you would rather hit a tree than a dog.

They said you didn't care who you pissed off, and that when someone was wrong you just had to prove it to them.

But they said you tended to be polite, as long as someone's stupid wasn't showing.

They remembered that you loved to read the paper from front to back everyday.

And that you loved a good bargain.

They mentioned that you could fix anything, and make things from a mound of old parts that had rusted together.

Someone remarked that you loved to watch TV while lying on the floor, and that if you could've you would've lived on toast because it is easy to make.

They remarked that you would wash dishes in scalding hot water, stating that if it wasn't actually burning you it was just a little tickle, and not really hot.

Did I mention that they said you were stubborn?

I sat back and listened to this chatter, while you lay in your casket in the suit you decided one day that you just had to have and then never wore.

I sat and listened to them laugh about your habits and talk about your life.

Remember the lump on your head from when Brenda yelled "DUCK" as you went under one of the very rare (in those days) overpasses on the west Texas plain?

Her and Gwen sure remember the asswhuppin they got.

By the way, Grampa, they still laugh at that one.

Remember back in the early eighties when you had lung cancer and they took one of your lungs? How everyone said you weren't long for this world....everyone but me that is.

I rode my bicycle forty miles to see you in the hospital, and had to sneak in to see you, but I did, and you told me you would be home soon.

You always held to your word Grampa.

They said that tonight too.

I see you in me more each day. I just never realized it until tonight.

Tomorrow they will play Taps and fold the flag that rests atop your casket.

And we will cry.

But tonight Grampa, we laughed.

That is what you taught me Grampa.

To live a balanced life.

To always tell the truth and be damned certain of what the truth was before you opened your mouth. Otherwise you run the risk of your stupid showing.

You showed me compassion and resourcefulness.

You taught me the difference between real pain and a "tickle", and how to endure both.

You showed me Love, and caring, and tenderness, and strength and discipline and determination.

You taught me that life is the journey, and the less time you spend in travel the more time you have to enjoy it.

It would take me another lifetime to tell you in detail all of the things I learned from you Grampa, but another thing you taught me was when to shut up, even though you yourself said the lesson didn't stick.

All this and more I learned at your side, and for that there are no words to express how thankful I am that you were my Grampa.

I will try to do you proud.

Linked at Stop The ACLU, The Political Teen, Mudville Gazette, Wizbang, and Basil's