My grandfather passed away Tuesday evening. He was the only grandfather I ever knew and he was the best. My Dad's dad passed away when I was very little and I don't remember ever meeting him. So Poppy was all I had as grandfather's go. By the way, my absolutely fabulous grandmother does read my blog sometimes, so if you see this, "Well now, Rose Marie." LOL.
Poppy has had a long fight with Alzheimer's, so in some respects it is good his suffering is over. He's on to better places and eating donuts with the angels in the sky. I will always remember his stories of World War II, in which he was a Marine. I will always remember what he looked like coming to meet us on a tractor with the sun setting behind him as he finished work in the fields. I always remember the conversations we had while we picked blackberries along Pennypacker Lane. I'll always remember riding on his shoulders of his 6'3" frame and ducking under the door frames as we walked around. It's a wonder I became afraid of heights. I'll always remember the stories of how I was just like his brother who died in WWII. He always said I got my intelligence from his brother.
We'll be leaving soon for the wake and the funeral will be tomorrow. Phoebe will go with us and we'll leave the boys at home. I can't believe looking at pictures of Phoebe with Poppy when she was a year old that she'd become such a young lady that fits into my dresses.
By the way, for those of you who listen to the Flylady radio show, the title is from a song she plays and is one of the only country songs I really love. It's always reminded me of Poppy.