I’ve run out of grandparents. My grandpa Henry died today. He has been living in a nursing home for the last year (he’s had his own room and was relatively mobile, though his memory was going). He got the flu, got liquid in his lungs, got pneumonia and died today.
The funeral will probably be Sunday. Of the many memories that I have of him, I’m sure that I’ll remember him smoking cigars the most. He smoked at least one cigar a day from age 10 through 95 (shortly before he entered the nursing home–because they tend to frown on that there). He loved cigars, when he was 10 he would scavenge the rejects pile at the Mi Lola plant in Milwaukee with friends of his and find the best of the lot. He was never pretentious with his cigars (he stuck to George Burns idea that if the cigars cost more than 10 cents each then they cost too much) and his brand of choice during the years that I was aware were Ben Franklins and White Owls. I need to stop and get some White Owl cigars so that I can smoke one for him.
I’ll miss you Grandpa.