My Poppy

I had the world's best grandfather for 29 years.  

When I was a child, he made me laugh.

He was really good at finding bugs on me, especially under the arms where it tickled the most.

He would bite my toes and tell me if it tasted like vanilla, chocolate, or strawberry.

He called Kool-Aid bug juice.

He had a computer back in the 80's and would let my sister and I play games on his computer while he was at work.

My sister remembers calling him at work trying to figure out those games, and he would always patiently explain them to her.

He made every one of his grandkids feel like they were special and his favorite.

                                                      

                 

    

When I was a teenager, he made me feel normal.

He always had a hug and loving words for me.

He knew everyone's favorite food and would always keep it on hand.

  He would be slightly inappropriate with his jokes, which made me feel like an adult.

I remember very clearly in the picture below that I could not fall asleep, but didn't move because of the comfort I felt from sleeping on Poppy.

       

        

When I was an adult, he included me in his adult world.

He was very open about his faults and accomplishments.

He didn't think worse of me when I behaved foolishly.

He would call himself a 'Sour Kraut' until he found out he was actually Swiss.  

Then he would still call himself a 'Sour Kraut' and would go on to tell you the whole story of how he had always believed he was German but found out he wasn't.

He was the definition of 'ornery.'

And yet he was also very kind, benevolent, and friendly.

He was married to his first wife, my grandmother, for 51 years.

They'd known each other only 2 weeks before they got married.

After her death, he met a wonderful lady named Betsy, whom he was married to until his death.

                                                      

I miss him.