My grandfather died on August 22nd. He was good man. The kind they don’t make anymore. The kind that only knew how to work his very hardest, give his very best and love with all of his heart. He loved people and he loved life.
I think I could finally see through my grandfather’s eyes when I went home for his funeral. Where I come from had never seemed quite as beautiful to me. The landscape, the town, the sense of community, my family. I’ve never been so proud of my grandfather and my hometown. It’s amazing where life can take us and how it can grow us into new and even better people, but it’s always important to never forget where you come from and the people that shaped you.