25 Years Later...

Today's word: nostalgia. It would've been my grandfather's (aka Poppie) birthday. One of the hardest losses I ever had, which essentially was the final destruction with me and my relationship with "god" and "the church". I was only 13 but if I had to pick who adored me most in life, it was a tie between him and my grandmother.

But, he was definitely a man that loved me like no other. Everything I did seemed to be magic for him. It was awesome to feel that loved. (Not that I'm not loved now... but you people who have kids and see them with your grandparents get the drift).

So many fun memories, learning odds at the track, heading to AC, playing cards, "happy hours," making us fantastic hash browns with the world's heaviest and oldest iron skillet. Before I became a true skeeball champion, I remember when he paid off the arcade so I could have the biggest teddy bear in the place. I'm pretty sure he realized how determined of a person I am, which was why he expedited the procees.

But, out of all, I miss his (admittedly terrible) crooning. He used to belt out songs at the top of his lungs, which drove my grandmother bananas (I believe she used to say that the dogs and cats would appear at the door if he kept it up) and made me laugh.

Here's one of them... I still listen to this song, hear that husky voice and start to giggle.

Enjoy it. The lyrics were always particularly relevant to me.

Smooches,
G