The Last Day

Today, my Grampy passed away. It is a hard day, in many ways, but I will remember him well. The way he answered the phone in that "Maine" way by saying "yeeeellow" instead of "hello." They way that he sat patiently and taught me how to use every tool in his wood shop. The way that even when I was a princessy 8 year old, he cut out shapes out of wood for me to make crafts out of and let me sand them and chatter away. The way he was always so excited to tell a story about the museum where he volunteered. The way he would be sound asleep in his chair, but claim to only be resting his eyes. The way he always had a jar of peanuts beside his chair to snack on, and would hand them out. The way he liked mince-meat pie (blech), and not cheesecake. The way he let his cereal get soggy before he ate it. The way he would read stories to my brother, and not point out that I was trying to listen in too, because I was WAY too old for stories. The way he was difficult and hard to know, but somehow never made me feel unwelcome or unwanted. The way he cared about his craftsmanship and tried to produce a good product for a good price. The way he always had his camera ready to take the pictures that are visual reminders of memories formed. The way he taught me to pick out wood in a lumber yard. The way he taught me how to remove a bow from a plank. The way he would let my brother and I take over the TV for video game purposes without complaint whenever we came to visit. The way that the last time I spoke to him on the phone, I said "I love you, Grampy," and he said, "well, I love you too!" back to me. These are all small things, but together they make big memories for me.