Grandma always says to remember the good times.
I remember the camping and fishing trips like they were yesterday. I'm not sure if I caught anything of any account (I remember catching and releasing lots of Bluegill), but I still had fun.
I remember the woodworking that you did, the things you helped me build, and the things you built for me. I still have my clock (though it needs a new mechanism) and my truck, among others,
I remember the TV shop, where you repaired electronics, and where you got me interested in electronics. I remember the trips where we stopped at Radio Shack, and I eventually had a small collection of Forest Mims books to learn from.
I remember the gadgets you picked up at yard sales, which included an NES and a Texas Instruments TI-99/4A.
I recently learned that the scene of an accident where personal items are strewn about the road is called a yard sale: yeah, not that type...
I remember the day we visited my uncle at work, and got to see the data center. I remember the room was huge but advances in technology had left most of it empty. And I remember they had a plotter that drew the state of West Virginia county-by-county.
I remember many of the trips you took us on as our chauffeur, the "ejection seat" lever on the back of the seats of the Thunderbird, and the propensity of the vehicle to stop at any and all yard sales.
And I remember the times you took us to church, just like you took your children when they were young: "Train up a child in the way he should go, Even when he is old he will not depart from it." - Proverbs 22:6 (NASB95)
But there is an appointed time for everything... (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8)
As dementia slowly took hold of your mind, you had to stop doing the things you enjoyed: the woodworking, the electronics repairs, the driving, the yard sales. But you never lost the hope that is in Christ Jesus, who while we were yet sinners, died for our sins so that we may have everlasting life. (A few verses for the reader: 2 Corinthians 4:16-18; Romans 5:8; John 3:16-17)
Though death has separated us for now, you will always be my grandpa.
Until we are reunited in Christ, I will take care of myself.