My grandfather was born June 16th, 1918, and passed into eternity four and a half years ago.
A minister all of his adult life, he never really retired, just slowed down as the years took their toll on his body.
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| My grandfather in his early thirties. |
He gave me my first jobs, and tolerated my budding interests in computers, even if he never quite got my obsession.
He gave me my first airline flight, a trip on a Southwest 737 Classic, to take me to Florida to visit the college I would ultimately attend, graduate from, and meet the woman who would become my wife and mother of my children.
The first car I ever owned was a gift from him and my grandmother. Likewise my second, which was the first family car that my wife and I ever owned together (and still own today, 135,000 miles later).
I still think about the lessons he taught me.
Happy Birthday, Papa.
I hope I’m living a life and raising your great-grandchildren in a way you’d be proud of.
I miss you.