My Grandpa passed away Wednesday night. I feel torn up inside when I start thinking about it, but I cannot show it, that's just me. I know I will probably loose it tomorrow at the viewing or when I see my Grandma, but what can you do. it's called being human, something I am typically not very good at. I do have some very good memories of g-dad, mostly of fishing, hunting, and him calling me Andy-Bear. heh. As a little kid, it's cool to be called anything bear. sounds, manly. I will admit the last 5 or so years have been tough to get close to him, we are truly two worlds apart. he is a staunch straight-ticket republican voting Mormon. I am scotch drinking, beer swilling, liberal democrat. we didn't really see eye-to-eye. I guess that's how it goes when you are really 2-3 generations apart, he has a much wider focal length than I do. ah, crap, I hope I don't catch the right-wing bug when I get older. is that genetic?
I really hope his last weeks here on this mortal coil weren't too bad. I know he was hooked up to the morphine machine and probably didn't feel anything. just kind of crappy to have to be in pain for your last days.
Godspeed Mr. Barrett, I wish I would have visited you one last time. See you on the other side. I am going to miss you greatly.
--A
