Grandpa, today you went to be with Jesus. Even your last words, “I’m going home,” celebrate the anticipation of being with Him. I rejoice knowing that you are at peace in your new body, not having to wrestle your deteriorating one any longer, and that you now live in the full revelation of Love, Life, and Truth. Still, I will miss you. I will miss your raspy Marlon Brando voice and your tributes to the meaning or purpose of family. I will miss the stories of imaginative bears and squirrels that you tell the boys. I will miss your jokes and ability to make people laugh, even in the most serious circumstances. But, I will remember too. I will remember you taking me out dancing as a little girl. I will remember the pizza pie, miniature slot machines, and your love for New York City. I will remember the big blue recliner — “grandpa’s chair.” I will remember the endless supply of drawing paper and National Geographic. I will remember “God-doogee” and other grandpa-isms. I will remember the bowls of candies and treats, and that you never let us leave your house without taking something with us. I will remember the way that you would tease us with stories of the boogie man, but always let us know how proud you were of us. I will remember you, Grandpa. I love you.