Grandpas

Some Grandpas are nice old guys who worked so long and hard that they really couldn't give a rat's rear end about EVER moving out of their Barcalounger, save to use the pee-pot or to go to bed. They ALWAYS have a stain on their shirt or pants because they eat dinner (and lunch) off a TV tray while watching reruns of old fishing shows. TV tray + Barcalounger = lots of spills.

Some Grandpas hit a funky place in life where they think they are sixteen again and try to learn the language of the day. It always comes out something like this: "Hey, sweet cheeks! Wanna grab a tall one and make like a baby and HEAD OUT?" The only thing that saves Grandpas like this from getting decked is the fact they are cute, in a baby-bald Eagle kinda way.

Some Grandpas kind of check out of their brain somewhere along the way and can't find their pants to save the farm. If they own a shirt, it is unbuttoned, save the bottom hole, which manages to hold on for dear life in the wind. Gut sticking out is standard.

But, some Grandpas are the sweetest men you'd like to ever meet. They savor your every thought, listen carefully and wonder at how intelligent you are for your age, and tell you stories about when they were young, which are always interesting and make you smile. You hang on their every word and they hang on yours. They walk, using a cane, across a busy street to eat lunch with you at the local diner, even though they don't want much more than cottage cheese and peaches and to see you enjoy your meal. When your family moves 1000 miles away and you can't see each other much anymore, Grandpa's like this decide it is time to die. And they do. And a small piece of you dies with them. And you still remember and cry, 30 years later.

That's the best kind of Grandpa to have. I'm lucky, because that's the kind of Grandpa I got.

I miss you, Grandpa Robbie. Kisses.