…it has been a while.
Sorry about that. The past few weeks have been a bit tumultuous to say the least. I have ran and biked some…I think I remember how to swim. But none of this has been my focus lately.
My grandfather passed away at 91 after a year and a half battle with cancer.
He was my hero. He was the strongest, kindest, bravest, most capable man I have ever known – and the best grandfather any little girl could ask for.
This is an edited re-posting of a of a post I wrote about him a few years ago.
The Empty Chair
When I close my eyes and think of Pop, I am sitting on his shoulders being carried down his fields and through the woods to go play in the sandpits.
I see a giant garden big enough to feed a small town, overflowing with giant vegetables, each carefully tended by my grandfathers hoe.
I see him sitting in his chair by the window, with books piled high all around, on every subject from world religions, history, and psychology to biology, physical science, and geology.