To my Grandpa Danny


She asks me over and over why I love you. She says its all your fault. She doesn't want me to have anything to do with you. And I don't know. Maybe its your fault. Maybe not. Maybe its her fault. Maybe not. But she doesn't understand.

I love you because you love me.

Because no matter what you were blind to, you wearn't ever blind to me.

You hug me and tell me you love me. You tell me I'm special and that I'm gonna make a difference in the world. Which probably isn't true, but its nice to hear it anyway.

You tell me I'm beautiful and that one day the boys will be lining up at my doorstep, ready to fight for me. Which again, probably isn't true. But its a nice fantasy.

When we fight, you always apologize and when I'm scared, your always close behind, ready to fight the scary things away.

We stay up late together and watch old black and whites. Comeidies, fantasies, and horror. Which is probably why you always have scary things to fight away.

We wink at each other like we've got some secret that no one else in the world is in on. When ever we pass each other by, you wink at me, or I wink at you. That one little movement of the eyelid is a big part of what has held us together. What will always hold us together.

You raised me and played with me. Always gave me a choice. You almost always bought me anything I wanted, no matter how ludicrous it was, or how expensive. Which I feel bad for, so one day I'll pay you back for that stuff.

You took me to parks, to rivers, to themeparks, but most importantly-you took me into your heart.

You colored with me and laugh at my jokes.

I sit in the chair next to yours. Its my chair. Right next to yours.

I want to sit in your lap still. I'm to old now, but that doesn't stop me from wanting to.

So many of my childhood memories are memories of you. Of us being together and being stupid together. Me dressing up like you, wearing your robe and glasses.

When I have problems with my parents or sisters you always take my side, even if I'm wrong.

When I cry, you comfort me. And when I leave or you leave, we cry together.

You because you don't want to go.

And me because I want to go with you.

We love each other so much it hurts, and has brought fifteen years of disaster and chaos.

But I don't think its your fault.

Its not her fault either, though.

Its no one's fault, we all played a role.

I know you'll read this eventually, and I can't wait to see you again.

I love, I'll love, I'll always love you

Bobber