Pop died this morning.

Not a bad death, as deaths go… Popped his clogs quietly in his chair, not too long after breakfast — hospital food unfortunately, but we can only play the cards we’re dealt.

No disrespect to Grandpa Nuzum or my cousins’ Pa Shaw, but he was what you wanted in a grandfather — wise, kind, fair, skilled with hand tools, builder/proprietor of a cool shed, and even in his trackies you couldn’t say he was poorly dressed. Pop was always happy to hear your news, see the school play, watch you play sport, attend a graduation or go an award presentation.

He taught me how to use a lawnmower, spot a rip and so much more.

I miss him.