Grandpa, tell me bout the good ole days...

My grandpa used to sit and tell me stories of the good ole days. I remember as a child that I once told him Grandpa you've told us this story a thousand times before. Looking back I realize I should have listened just one more time. My grandpa was an amazing, smart, and caring individual. He was the rock that held our family together the one you turned to in a time of need. Yesterday my grandpa would have been 89 years old, he's been dead for ten years this year. October 2, 2005, it was the worst day of my life that I have encountered to this day. I've never felt so alone as the day he died. You'd have thought I talked to the man every day the way I talk about him yet the truth is I only got to see him usually once a year. We lived here in Oklahoma and he lived in Kentucky. That one week a year I got to see him always brings a smile to my face. I remember when he used to get down in the floor with my brother, cousin and I and wrestle with us. The times he'd get down there and color, so many good memories flood my brain when I think of him. He taught me so much about life and he taught me that the only person that can make my life good is me. I am so thankful for my Grandpa. I know he's up there underneath that shade tree looking down on me and I know he's proud.