The more things change
There’s a Hillary event on Grampy’s birthday this week. I think he would love it if I went. Voting together was our thing.
It’s been 10 years that he’s been gone and I still can’t believe it.
Took mom to his favorite restaurant yesterday. Unfortunately the closest one is in Port St. Lucie and it sucks every year that we go.
Of course, the last time I made plans on a weeknight, I lost more than $70 because of the usual.
Got to thinking about all the times mom and Grampy would drive two hours each way to meet me in Breezewood, Pa., for lunch every now and then. At that same restaurant.
It was always so good, the visit and the food. I loved seeing them without me having to drive all the way to Pittsburgh from Alexandria or Rockville for a too-short weekend.
Mom reminded me how Grampy used to sneak away to smoke and watch the cows. I usually stayed with mom.
Even though I was a smoker, I knew it triggered her allergies so I didn’t do it. And I lectured him about it.
What I wouldn’t give to have 10 minutes back, to spend with him over a smoke and a Starbucks out in the fields …