I find that I will miss him dearly, and think of all the times I should have gone to visit instead of screwing around with cars, guns, girls, and many other things that didn't matter as much. I think of all the things he taught his grandkids, including me.
He taught me the value of life when he built a chicked coop and made me take care of the chickens for a summer.
He taught how to drive a tractor when I was 7.
He taught me to drive to the truck when I was 12.
He showed me how to shoot a bow and arrow.
He taught me how to shoot an air rifle. He taught me about irrigation.
He taught me that investing wisely can make you money.
He taught me that borrowed corn tastes better [:)]
He taught me that a hard day's work is rewarding.
He taught me about life.
My brother and I delighted in our summer visits to the farm. We could dig holes and tunnels in the sandy dirt, and grandfather would come by and check to see what we'd done and give us some pointers. My brother and I would take turns shooting arrows across the fields to see who could make it back and forth in the fewest shots. My grandfather would then come out and shot an arrow over his tall sequioa tree in the front yard and ask us to try. I can't recall that either my brother or me ever did. One summer he made us take charge of the chicken coop. A most humbling experience for a 10 year old kid.
He seemed invicible.
He seemed afraid of nothing.
And now, he is now teaching me about death.
One of his favorite things to do is to twist knuckles. This is a compact version of mercy, where you interlock your middle fingers and twist till someone gives. As a kid I couldn't wait till the day I could finally make him give.
That day came 8 years ago. He'd had a stroke the previous year, the first of many. Although his recovery was quite good, it still left a lasting impression. I of course wanted to twist knuckles when I saw him, and he obliged. This time was different, as I felt that I could twist harder than he was able to. I didn't want to win ever again.
I knew then that he wasn't going to live forever. It was a sad day for me.
His doctor always finds him amazing in that he was still alive and kicking for the last few years. Although my grandfather never drank or smoked, he had high blood pressure. In spite of treatment for most of his life, his kidneys succumbed late last year. He is too old to get a transplant so he went onto dialysis.
Here was a man that had survived the great depression, two serious car wrecks, one that left his right leg only able to bend 20 degrees, experimental surgery in the 60's for high blood pressure, and having four daughters.