01 December 2009

Grandpa B.

One of the greatest parts of Thanksgiving was that I got to spend time with my grandparents. In Grandpa B., I found my second-favorite picture subject, too. (Mitch is my favorite.)

Grandpa B. has always been one of my favorites. He is kind and gentle and has the patience of a saint. (He married my grandma when she already had 5 very bad children.)

Grandpa B. is childlike, is curious and fascinated by the world around him. He is the reason I love the smell of someone smoking a pipe.

He's also frank. Grandpa's not afraid to tell you when he's unhappy with something. Often, his facial expressions say everything.

When I was a kid, Grandpa B. was the best. He balanced perfectly my grandma's disdain for children. I remember visiting them when I was about eight. They lived in an apartment building that wasn't very kid-friendly, but Grandpa made sure that Jordan and I were entertained. He had Tinker Toys, and would build elaborate structures with them and then hook them up to a steam engine. The one I remember best was a ferris wheel. Then he helped us build our own structures and put them in motion.

And even after all these years, Grandpa is willing to try new things. On Saturday, he ate oysters for the first time. (I won't go near an oyster. I think they look like snot.)

And you know what? He loved them.

Grandpa is the sweetest man. On Saturday night, he and I were looking at the pictures we'd taken that day. We got to this one of Grandma Carol. . .

. . .and Grandpa turned to me and said, "You know, even after all these years, I still think she's just the prettiest lady. . .She's got the best hair."

Does it get any better than that?

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