Last year on my birthday, I lost my Grandpa Fran. He was a huge part of me growing up and he lived a wonderful, long life. Even when he was dying of cancer, he was the most positive person I knew. I remember one time we were talking and I said I was sorry he had cancer. His response? "Why? If it's not me, it would just be someone else; might as well make the best of it!" Before going into surgery, he was all grins, during his treatments, he would call me from the center where he was staying to tell me about how great the nurses were, the people he was meeting and how he felt so lucky to have the experience. (Really? LUCKY to have cancer Grandpa?!) I remember at his funeral we were talking to all of the people that knew him from all different aspects, neighbors, co-workers from the YMCA, church friends, horse people, everyone had a happy story to share, and I honestly don't think there was a person that knew him that didn't like him. I would like to think that Grandpa Fran and Grandma Sharon are up there singing their songs, and maybe he'll visit Grandpa Emory at an auction. I also hope they are growing a garden, for fresh green beans so his whiskers keep growing and he is riding one of his horses. Grandpa, you were a wonderful man and I miss you so much. I wish I would have taken more advantage of spending time with you when I had the chance, but thank you for helping me be who I am today. I know I got my (mostly) positive outlook from you, and I appreciate it.
Happy birthday to me, hopefully this year I'll have someone to share it with :) More news on that tomorrow, I hope!