My Grandpa Sid [affectionately Geeps, Gpa, Popsicle and many other terms of endearment] died last night. He had been on hospice for many months and just in the last week moved into an assisted living facility. He was 91 and pretty awesome.
I’ll always remember as a child, together with a brother or cousin or something, Grandpa pushing us down an icy hill as we sat cross-legged in a metal bushel basket. He’d give it a good twist before letting us go too. I know – it doesn’t sound safe and it likely wasn’t, but, boy, it was fun for a little kid. Such is farm life.
I remember him always walking to the bookshelf to get the atlas whenever I was at his house visiting. We’d have to look up my flight pattern to Africa or find out exactly where Dawson is or discuss the route I was taking to Alaska. He liked that atlas.
I remember him always leaving after communion during church if the sermon was too long. Preachers – take note. He didn’t understand why church should take longer than an hour and breached the topic with me many times once I was ordained.
I’ll remember the way his laugh was practically silent when you got him laughing really hard. It was usually the boy brothers and boy cousins who could get him going. Oh, and the way he always responded when you asked him how he was. Pretty good, *insert name of person asking*, pretty good with a gentle head nod. It’s become a bit of a catch phrase in the family; I remember even getting a little Logan to say it on repeat.
Oh, Grandpa, with your pinstripe overalls and tight script handwriting. He was a pretty great penpal too. He sent me a birthday letter just a few weeks ago with the latest happenings. His closing is pretty perfect too. Bye for now. Sounds about right, Gpa. Bye for now.
ps. here is a post I wrote in August about the cuteness of Gpa.
there's no place like gnome. 
Lindsay – So sorry to hear about Geeps. He was a special guy.