Harold Shelburne

My grandpa passed away last night--he couldn't overcome the damage caused by the stroke. I can't even begin to imagine how my grandma feels. After talking more with my mom I understand he was probably ready (as was the rest of the family) to move on, out of the shackles that his body had become. It has been no less shocking to us all--we can't grasp what has happened to a good man that has always been so lively and full of so much joy he couldn't help but share it. I can't remember exactly what my mom said last night, but she was quick to talk about celebrating him and his life and all the good memories we have.

A few good memories include eating lots of chocolate ice cream with him and my sister at my grandparents' kitchen table, stirring it into a chocolaty soup; the musky smell of pipe tobacco; Andes mints (dubbed "sleeping pills") before bed; stories and photos from flying bombers in the War; sitting at endless cattle auctions after McDonald's happy meals; and recently, congratulating me on being lucky enough to marry such a good lookin' woman.