all packed | en-route | Saturday morning
Grandpa & I | keeping warm
On Friday evening my family in its entirety flew to (the oh-so-glamorous) Thunder Bay to help my grandpa celebrate his 90th birthday. Being surrounded by loved ones for an entire weekend is something that I’ll never tire of – especially when there’s a legitimate excuse to celebrate. And so we did. We celebrated the man who worked 80 hour weeks to ensure all four of his kids could go to college. Who breaks into dance when the room bursts into a rendition of “happy birthday”. Who is never short of jokes (even if my grandma thinks they’re crude). Who, to this day, curls three times a week, each and every week (and can out-lunge me any day). Who still insists he hand out ice cream money (yes, I’m 26). And who, at ninety years of age, never hesitates to climb onto his roof during a storm to shovel snow off of it for fear of it collapsing under the weight. My grandpa has led an extraordinary life and it was so amazing to see the outpouring of love for him on Saturday. There is no one like him in this world and let me go on record when I say that I hope I inherited his genes.
Happy Birthday Grandpa!