My Grandfather was a strong and hard working man who I always looked up to, loved and respected. He was a simple man really, someone who did not need the excesses of this world or anything more than what he had to be happy. He was always so very healthy, vibrant and alive and as a young boy I looked at him and thought him larger than life. He lived a long and healthy life (93 years) which, in some small way, takes some of the edge off the pain of losing him.
I am, in part, named after him and for that I am immensely honored and proud. When his wife (my Grandmother Helen) died far too young, he knew the hurt that caused for me and my sister and showed us love like he never did prior to that day. After she passed Grandpa really went out of his way to spend more time with us and never missed an opportunity to tell us how much he loved us, something that was hard for him to share prior to my Grandmothers death. This man, who found it so hard to express love and emotion, put aside his difficulty with showing love and emotion to give it to his Grandchildren when he knew we needed it. My Grandmother was a very kind and sensitive woman and somehow my Grandfather knew that after she died he had to fill in for that in some way. He did!