I've been thinking about my grandfather these last few days. I think its a culmination of factors that have made me miss him more than usual. Sunday would have been his birthday, Father's Day is this Sunday, and the World Cup is in progress (which we all know he would have been glued to the TV cheering for Italy).
Yesterday before church we made a stop at Wal-Mart to purchase Father's Day cards for all the men in our life. I had one picked out for my Papa, and your Grandpa Scottberg, and then it hit me that I did not need to purchase a card for Grandpa Gaspare. I broke down a bit right there in the card isle. I felt a huge frog in my throat, and I became overwhelmed with feelings of sadness combined oddly with a hint of joy. I of course was sad because he is no longer here, but I was reminded of all of the happiness he as a person brought to my life. I appreciate so much his presence in our family, and I know I am blessed because of his love, support, and encouragement.
I can't eat a bowl of pasta and not think of him. Every time I open a can of gravy (or marina sauce as the rest of the world calls it), I know he is gasping in horror at the unpardonable sin of using a shortcut...and it makes me chuckle. Parker, you have started saying "Madone" (pronounced "Ma-dawn") when you're upset. That's a term you have picked up from me, which I picked up many years ago from my grandpa. I'm not even sure what it exactly means, except that it's a term of frustration. I also say "Manaj" (pronounced "Ma-naj) which is courtesy of Grandpa as well. You've been saying it quit frequently while you are venting about a situation. I honestly don't know what that means either..although I say it 10x a day.
Just a random post on a rainy morning.