Over the Rainbow.

My Grandpa is dying tonite. I got the call a few hours ago. My grandpa, still sitting in his old chair, in the back room, unresponsive as the phone was put up to his ear as I said my goodbyes. I choked up... said a few words and let it go at "i love you and your daughter (my mom) loves you." I can think of everything now. While my grandparents and I didn't exactly have the best relationship, I didn't think this would hit me... but it did. I want to say thank you for the things that he did, whether i liked them or not... like the constant scavenger hunts, the prize always being the trip to the liquor store, singing "dont step on the cracks or...." for an ice cream or candy... as long as it was gone before we got back to my mom. Or those damn "papa specials"... saltine crackers, cream cheese, and butter... I know. weird. but i loved them. Oh God, and the Wizard of Oz. He loved that movie. We prolly watched it over a hundred times... over and over. He had Toto, too. The dolls, the cards, the characters. The few times my kids have been over, he's got them watching it too. Funny, its been a few years now... and the kids started singing the Yellow Brick Road song in the car the other day. He loved his yodeling, too. Irish/Scottish pride. The checker games, cheesy riddles, word searches... or Voltaire. As I got older and more of a handful, I lived with them for awhile. His solution was to make me read... and run. Voltaire, Locke, Machiavelli, Plato and Aristotle and Rosseau.... and run... or he tried to make me. I'd rather argue theories than go to boot camp. He made me think. He challenged ideas. Hehe.... he was the philosopher...with an old Ford pick up truck. Same 50's haircut, blue jeans and button up shirt, with his Camel non filters. Those cigarettes were glued to him. Even when I was living with him, he bought me my own packs. Yes, it was prolly wrong...but that was the least of my worries at the time. Those smokes are killing him. He is in 4th stage emphysema....and still, it didn't stop him. The doctors gave him a month or so left at Christmas time. Of course, he proved them wrong. I knew he would. He would go when he was ready. I think he's at peace with everyone now. He's not scared. I won't be going to the funeral. My mom made the choice not to attend, and I wouldn't show up without her. We'll miss you. <3