My grandfather passed away this morning. He was 76 years old, and worked hard until the day he died.
There are many other things going on in the world, I understand. This is not specifically politically-related, but I can't think a whole lot about politics right now.
My mother called me this morning, just as I was getting off the train, going to my freelance job. My grandfather had a heart attack and died.
This is a man who took me in when I was four years old, my own father had abandoned us, and my mother remarried. My grandparents helped raise myself and my brother. He was like a father to me.
My grandfather embodied everything that is good in this country, to me. He instilled a work ethic in me, culled from almost 50 years as a Teamsters truck driver. If you crossed him, you'd get to see the drill sergeant in him, from his time in the Army, during the Korean War. Constantly cracking jokes, in between it all.
My earliest memories involve watching Indiana basketball games with him, as a young child, and later, Indianapolis Colts games. The players for both of those teams are lucky that gramps was never seriously considered for either coaching job, based on the coaching job he did from his living room. Chair-throwing would have looked trivial, by comparison.
Later, when I attended IU, you couldn't have found a prouder grandfather. The day I graduated, he got a bit choked up at my graduation dinner, when he decided that he had to take his "my son is an IU student" license plate off of his car.
He retired from the Teamsters, and he tried the easy retirement. He quickly became bored, and, at almost 70 years old, he went back to work. Hard work. Remodeling houses. A few days ago, at 76 years old, he dug a ditch by hand. He became ill, and my grandmother tried to get him to go to the hospital. He had her rub icy hot on his sore shoulder, and he went right back to work. He was working on a house this morning, when he collapsed.
I'd been trying to convince him to come visit California, to take him on a fishing trip to Catalina. Sadly, it never happened.
I guess the point of this diary is that I need to release these thoughts into the ether, but there's something more. I'm seeing politicians speak on TV, and I hope that they are still in touch with my America. My America doesn't revolve around stump speeches and gas tax holidays. My America doesn't revolve around bickering and PUMAs and party unity.
My America revolves around love, inspiring people, and good, hard work. Please, don't ever forget that. My grandfather was a committed Democrat. I can remember him arguing with my aunt, when she voted for Reagan in 1980. We've had a number of political discussions this past year, and in May, my grandfather cast his very last vote for Barack Obama.
I beg you, with all of the glitz and glam, don't ever forget the great people that you stand for. I've had a solid reminder today of what is important in this world, and I hope everyone else remembers, too. We've been trampled on quite a bit over these last 8 years, and it's time for hard working Americans to reclaim this country.
Make my grandfather proud.