Memories

Ive been in a reflective mood lately, so bare with me for this.

When I was 13 or 14, my parents took my two younger brothers and I to Oregon for vacation. We drove the whole way, pulling our camper, and stayed on the coast the whole trip. We would drive until we got to some place we liked, then my Dad would stop and we would set up the camper and stay for a few days. I learned to like my brother that summer(hes a few years younger than me and we never got along). I learned every word to every Monkees song ever written, thanks to my Dad, and still know most of the words now(my phone plays the theme song from the Monkees when he calls). I picked blackberries, saw the whale that was Free Willie at an aquarium, didnt watch tv for 3 weeks, listed to Weezer and the Fugees over and over and over(those songs still remind me of that trip). One of my greatest memories of that trip is of the beaches. One day my parents and youngest brother were walking ahead of my other brother and I. I was stepping in my Dads footprints, not paying a lot of attention to anything. He must of realized what I was doing because he started taking really like strides, weaving all over the place and doing other goofy things and he and my Mom were just watching me, lost in my own world following his trail. I dont know why that memory stuck with me so well, but its an important one to me.

Growing up, I always thought of my Grandpa as a grouchy old man. He played golf, hunted, fished and did other "guy" things. I wasnt a boy, so I didnt think he wanted anything to do with me. 1999 was the first Christmas I had ever spent without my parents(they were in Indonesia), and I was depressed. My Grandparents invited Kylee and I to come stay with them for the holiday, so we went. My aunt and her husband at the time came and picked us up, and my Grandma was going to take us home on the 30th. Well my Grandma ended up really sick, so my Grandpa said he would take us instead. I was terrified. 8 hours in my Grandpas brand new Cadillac with Kylee was was barely 2 at the time. I knew this was going to be the worst ride of my life. We got up early that morning, Kylee was still asleep and headed out. About half an hour into the drive, my Grandpa and I started talking. We talked about everything under the sun. He never yelled at Kylee for being loud(we were always in trouble as kids for being loud), he gave her sticky candy to eat in the car(eating in the car was forbidden with my Grandpa) and it was over before I knew it. My Grandpa died in Feb. 2002 from brain cancer. He was diagnosed just after Thanksgiving and was told there was nothing that could be done because it had already spread to his lungs and the tumor in his brain was just too big. After the car ride home a few years earlier my opinion of my Grandpa had changed, but I was still in for a shock. My Grandma decided to move about two years ago. She was going thru all of her and my Grandpas stuff and came across envelopes full of pictures in his drawers. Every school picture my Mom and my aunts had ever sent my Grandparents was in there. You could tell he had put them in his wallet and then must have taken them out when he got new ones and put the old ones in the envelopes. He had also taken regular pictures and cut them out and stuck those in his wallet too. My Grandma sent each of us our envelope, and she sent me Kylees envelope too. Most of my childhood I didnt think my Grandpa even liked me. A few years after he died, I found out he really did love me.