West Coast Extravaganza: Grandpa

Ok, so I feel like I should show pictures from the trip in chronological order San Francisco, Thanksgiving with the Baum’s, Portland, Josh and Michelle’s house, and then the last day – the day we drove over Mt. Hood in a blizzard to see my grandfather. But, really, I want to start with my grandpa, so I will.

It was wonderful. Granted, my mom, aunt, brother, and even my father were all trying to prepare me for the worst. And even though it was hard, it was wonderful. He didn’t really remember who I was, from what I could tell, but he was really happy I was there. Ian said afterward, that he noticed that on a few occasions grandpa got a little crinkle in his eye to show he knew what was going on. That made me happy. It also made me happy that he and I got to play cards, that I got to tell him about what I do and how everyone in the family is, that Ian got to meet him and it made my whole trip worth it to get a few hugs and kisses on my cheek. He was sad to see me go and I cried off and on back over the mountain, but it was all worth it.

I have had a lot of time driving over that mountain to think about every place where our family (especially Florence) has gone wrong when it comes to my grandpa. There are many times in the last 13 years where we could have done better, where I could have done better. In January, he will turn 93 years old, when the snow thaws I want to go back, but if I can’t make it, I will know that I had Monday, I had a three hands of Gin, I had hugs and kisses and I had a chance to tell him one more time how much I love him.