A few hours ago, I found out that my grandpa died. I really don't know what to say about that, but I feel like I should say something.
I guess I should start off by talking about the good times we had together. The story that stands our in my mind was my first deer hunting trip with him, my dad, and my uncle. If my memory serves me correctly, it was the Friday after Thanksgiving in the year 2000. We actually drove up to Cheboygan right after Thanksgiving dinner (on Thursday), but we didn't go out until Friday morning.
Anyways, we got up at the crack of dawn, got all our gear on, and went off into the woods. We didn't see anything the whole trip, but looking back at it, that didn't matter. The time we spent back at camp was most memorable. He would tell me his war stories (I think he was in the Korean war) and other interesting things about life, in general. He often told the same stories over and over, but again, looking back at it, that wasn't important. The important thing was the time we spent together, because I didn't really like hunting in the first place. I mean, I enjoyed being out in the woods and spending time with my family, but I doubt I could shoot a deer, if given the chance.
Well, I guess that is all I have to say right now. I have to go to work, so that should take my mind off of things, at least I hope so. End of transmission.
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I'm sorry to hear that, man. A wise man once told me that in time like these, ya gotta "Keep on Keepin' on".
ReplyDeleteI guess there isn't much more to say than that. Take care, Ken.