What to say

Popcorn popping, juice squeezing, ice-fishing, cubs watching, fun-loving, bowler extraordinaire.

Just a few of the things that I will carry with me always from Grandpa Deetz. I've put off doing a blog entry because I haven't been sure what I wanted to say. Nothing seems to quite live up to what Grandpa meant to me.

He was a tremendous person and one I will miss greatly, yet while I have pangs of sadness here and there, I just can't get passed the feeling that the way he went was just so perfect.

He wasn't ill. We were playing corn-hole and fishing a few days before. He'd been bowling and picking strawberries. Everything was as normal as could be. He went out to mow, apparently started to feel ill, got off the mower, leaned against an apple tree and that was it. I think there's a country/folk song in there somewhere about passing away under an apple tree.

I know everyone wishes we could have been with him. Could've heard his last words. Could've done a few more things with him. But overall, I think it was about as perfect as death can ever be.

I think I may be a little more sad when I leave the farm this weekend. While I'm here I still feel physically close to him. Just to be surrounded by all the things he loved, took care of, etc. Going out to pick strawberries this morning I felt like he was around. It's comforting.

Like Kathleen and Carl, I'm one to carry on tradition and do things in honor of people I've lost, so yesterday I gave blood at Red Cross as that's something that Grandpa always did. Giving blood is not my favorite thing to do - I have little veins and tend to always feel sick at some point in the process, but it's something I feel like I can do to continue to honor Grandpa's legacy. I will probably not continue the oyster stew on New Years, but I doubt I'll ever squeeze an orange or make popcorn without thinking of grandpa. And I think once I get settled somewhere a little more permanent, I will try my hand at some gardening. I think that's an activity I will always feel close to grandpa (and dad) doing.

I will be forever grateful for the time I got to spend with him right before he passed away and for those humorous little memories from that time. Like when he pulled me aside at the cottage and said, "I didn't think I'd live to see the day you'd bring a boy home." Or how he shook Ryan's hand as we left and said, "Well, Ryan... good luck." Or how he was pacing around the house anxiously waiting for all the slow-pokes to get ready to go bowling, looking at me and shaking his head.

I think Grandpa truly believed in life going on, no matter what. And not just continuing to live, but enjoying it. So that's what I will focus on - taking pieces of him with me wherever I go.