To have a grandfather along with them this far.
Such a strong, witty man with an epic tale. He pushed hard to the end – without fail.
The story of a child raising the farm
To a man of good nature with Grandma’s hand on his arm.
I used to think when I was a kid
That a Grandpa wasn’t a Grandpa unless they looked like he did.
His bald head and silver hair
Any other Grandpas just didn’t compare.
I’d sit on his lap and tell him he stunk
He’d tell me “Kristin, bathing is for punks.”
He taught me how to make a fire with his black, beat up hands.
And I always looked up to him; a strong figure, a strong man.
As I thought about Grandpa in his last few days.
I thought if I make it, all the things I’d say.
I’d tell him, be with Grandma, its ok to go.
We will surely miss you but we know you loved her so.
And as I think of you now and everyday after -
I choose only to remember your charm and your laughter.
And as I think of you now and everyday after -
I choose only to remember your charm and your laughter.
