When I think of my Grandpa, alls I get are happy thoughts. My Gramps was a man of very few words, but he showed his love with his actions. For some reason, right from the get go, I had a special bond with him.
When I was a little girl, he took me to every single Gopher home football game for a couple years in a row. He would pick me up and we would drive to the cities. Very slowly, I might add. I remember always fiddling with the radio, finding music I liked and laughing about how he couldn't figure out a simple CD player. We would do the same thing every game. We stopped at the Cannonball in Cannon Falls. My Grandpa would have bacon, eggs, and toast, and I'd always go for the chicken fingers and fries. He would buy me candy at the truck stop. When we got to the game, he'd park in the same spot each time. We would watch the parade and I would get my face painted or buy a souvenir. During the game he would describe football to me as I watched the cheerleaders in awe.
Ever since those games, my Grandpa and I have been very close. I always told him how I wanted to be a Gopher cheerleader. He knew my dream of "making it big" in competitive cheerleading. He was so stinkin' supportive. He traveled to London with me when I was on Team USA. He followed my home town team to Florida every year for nationals. My freshman year in college, my Grandpa bought season tickets to Gopher football again. Why? Because his "little girl" was finally a Gopher cheerleader. I've never seen him so proud. It was like one of those full circle experiences. My Grandpa and I would comment on the cheerleaders technique when I was 12 and in the stands, and here he was in the stands watching me cheer ten years later.
Two years ago, he was diagnosed with laryngeal cancer. He went to a nursing home last year, and was obviously not happy about it. I came home every weekend from the cities, and ended up being one of his primary caregivers when he moved home. He had such a struggle with everything. He ended up losing his voicebox and not able to talk. He also needed a permanent trach. He found his ways to be positive, though you could see the pain in his eyes. Funny though, he talked more when he wasn't able to talk... Stubborn man.
My grandpa passed away last year after coming home. I was lucky enough to have moved back to Rochester and spend a lot of my time with him. I took care of him and kept him company when he wasn't able to go anywhere. Those last few months of his life, I realized I wanted to become a nurse. Taking care of him and having that rewarding feeling at the end of the day was amazing.
When I think about it, my Grandpa was a huge influence on most of my life. He started me on my "cheerleading kick" (which cheerleading took up all of my childhood/teenage years/college years) and helped me realize what I wanted to become when I get older.
You still live on in my heart, and you still have my heart.
