Writing that last post reminded me of a few stories about my grandpa. I used to love going to his house. I’d stay for a week at a time. I think I just enjoyed being around him, because he was laid back and funny. I’d ride my bike around his house, play basketball, pick peaches, and watch sports. My grandpa introduced me to sports. I remember I could play basketball during the news, but when the sports came on I had to sit.
My grandpa taught me how to drive a nail with a hammer and how to use a saw. i remember making a board that would support my grandmas back when she’d use the couch. My grandpa let me cut it, and then he’d measure. I’d go to the barn and just hammer and make shapes with the boards.
Arizona has a lot of meaning to me when it comes to him. I was in Flagstaff the last time I talked to him. He called and wished me happy birthday, and he died about 3 weeks later. My dad loves farming, and at a young age i knew I would never do that. I knew the city was where I had to go if I ever wanted to make anything of myself, because of transportation. My grandpa taught me a lot of skills on how to be a man. He taught me how to change a light, fix things with my hands, and not to be afraid of hitting my fingers with the hammer. My dad bonded with my brother, and I just never learned things like that from him. I just had more in common with my grandpa we could talk sports for 45 minutes, and then about life.
When my grandma past away I wrote him a poem that he kept I think for a long time. I stayed at his house with him for about a month after she died. When my grandma was alive he never cooked, but I remember him making instant pudding for me, and a lot of boxed meals. We’d sit up playing cards pretty late. On Saturday nights we’d watch SNL, and then he’d go to bed.
He took me to my first ever baseball game in 2001 where I saw the Cubs and the DBacks. I was in shock being there it was so cool. I remember leaving my jacket on the bus, because it was warm, but we sat under some box seats which blocked the sun so he bought me a 50 dollar sweatshirt. I never heard the end of that. In 2003 we went to Cincinnati, and watched the Reds play the Cubs in the opening year of Great American ballpark. After the game he couldn’t find the bus, and I told him I could stand on the corner with a cup for quarters. He didn’t find that to funny at the time, but we finally found the bus, and got home safely.
I just wanted to share this, because the memories came to me after my last post. I don’t really know how to end this, but by saying he was a great man, and I’m better because he was part of my life.