On October 22 of this year my grandfather died. I'm saddened. I'm sorry I didn't write something he would have the chance to read. He's the one who told me I should write.

 In the year leading up to his death, each of our meetings left me wondering if it would be our last. So I asked him things I wouldn't have if he hadn't been ill and spoke more freely with him than I had in my entire life. It was during one of those conversations, over lunch, that he told me with a tear in his eye that I should write my thoughts down. I was flattered by his request. So now, I'm taking his advice. Here goes...