19 on the 19th

Nineteen years ago today, on February 19, 1990, the world lost an amazing man. My Grandpa - Bob Inman. Wow, I can't believe it's been 19 years. I guess the reason is because I remember that day like it was yesterday. I remember what I was doing that day. I went to school and then to work at McDonalds. They had asked me to stay a little longer when my shift was over. I called home to let my Mom know -- no answer. As soon as I got home and my Mom and Dad finally got home, I knew. My Mom hugged me tight saying "Her Daddy was gone!" I remember what I wore to the wake and funeral. I remember watching my Grandma rub my Grandpa's hand during the wake. I remember after the funeral, with everyone around, my Grandma just breaking down and sobbing at the kitchen table. I remember visiting my Grandma after he had been gone and thinking every time I went over there that I would just see him walk down the hallway into the kitchen. I remember needing a pair of boxer shorts for school - either to wear under my uniform - or for a special something or other and Grandma giving me 2 pairs of Grandpa's (he had never worn them), one yellow and one green and they were my favorite! During my freshman year in college, I was taking an English Composition class -- I wrote about my Grandpa and about his funeral. To this day, I cannot hear the song "Be Not Afraid" and not think of that moment, the whole family huddled together, walking down the center aisle at St. Francis of Assisi church, to pay our last respects to this wonderful father, grandfather, uncle, brother. For me, losing my Grandpa was the first family death I actually experienced. I had lost Great-Grandparents before but was to small to attend and remember. This one was huge for me. A few years before that, when Aunt Rosemary passed away, I remember begging my Mom -- please let me attend her funeral. I was scared. I did not know what to expect from a funeral but I knew that I needed to attend. I needed to be prepared. Was this a premonition that in just a year and a few months I knew one of my own loved ones was going to pass away? I don't know. I do know that when my Grandpa went into the hospital, I didn't go visit him because I knew he wasn't coming home and didn't want to remember him that way. For many years after his death, on the anniversary of his death, at the time of his death, I would stop what I was doing and pray the "Our Father" and say a little prayer to him. Maybe that is why we are connected. I love the old picture of him I posted above -- not only because it's just a fabulous picture of a fabulous man but because it's uncanny how much my brother resembles him in this photo. Every time I look at it I see my brother. I love that. I have such wonderful memories of this man. I remember one day driving over to just visit with him. My Grandma wasn't home and I knew that. I just wanted to visit with him. Apparently, he loved that because later that day, when he talked to Deb Do, he asked her "guess who came and visited me today?" and told her all about our visit. I still have the birthday card my Grandpa gave me on my 16th birthday. He went to the store and picked it out by himself. Only he signed it. It was a treasure then and now. My sixteenth birthday was also the last birthday of mine he attended. On my seventeenth birthday, he was in the hospital. He called me during the party and it just meant the world to me. I could go on and on about the things I remember about this man but I'll stop here. I wish my kids had the pleasure of knowing him. He would have loved them. I know Olivia would have gotten the biggest kick out of him!!

Love you and Miss you Grandpa!! Talk to you later!!