Memories, memories, memories...just when I think I've thought of them all, I think of another....snow hills, wheel barrel rides, watering the grass, swing sets and sand boxes, pushing my friends on the swings at St. Michael's, bike rides where I rode in the child seat and he rode the green Schwin bike...swimming at Uncle Gene's pool, playing in his wood shop and putting my Barbie in the vice grip, so Ken would have to rescue her (how did he put up with me in his way down there???), cartoons and snacks after school ( and he'd sing a song about cheese and crackres), liver wurst sandwiches at Nona's, "Grandpa" sandwiches for lunch, building egg carton forts in the family room, Christmas Eve and the old records playing, grilled cheese sandwiches made on the camp stove when the power would go out, my swing set and sand box, many, many trips to FL, TX, and OK, playing with his hair and combing his curl while he sat in his recliner chair...testing his hearing while he sat in his recliner chair while I tapped on the wall....being my friend as I grew older and always telling me how proud he was of me....playing with my son, and being his hero, because he fought in the war, was shot and survived....comforting me after the loss of my son Sean, telling me about his son whom he lost as a newborn....all the many visits I had as an adult....every time I walk through the door of that house,knowing it will always feel like home and flood me with memories...I love you Grandpa, and I thank you.