Grandpa Pete

Well, Grandpa Pete died. We went to the funeral on Tuseday, I think that I cried my eyes out. (and there was no tissue)

I feel as though I have lost my own Grandpa - when I was little, I often saw more of Grandpa and Grandma Pete (as we McKee children called them) and had more to do with them than I did with my “real” grandparents - and they often saw us more than some of their “real” grandchildren. The everyday things like pink bubble gum, going out to the garden, and bringing in the hay.

It went something like this:

“Climb up there, (on the nose of the tractor) put your feet in the grating and HOLD ON! See this pipe??? Don’t touch it - you will get burned!”
I was so happy that I got to bring in all of my hay bales before Mrs. Hale got home…”Mike! What are you thinking, letting them do that?! Do you want someone to get killed?”

I feel like Bella Wilfer, (from Our Mutual Friend) who said something like this: “I think that I have aged whole years today.”

I cried for everyone - I cried for myself, and I cried for Grandma Pete.
I cried for his friends, and for some of the Hale children that may not allow themselves to grieve. And I cried for cousin Paige who sat alone - I could see that after each song there was a mental check mark, if you will “I made it through that one”.
Then at the end, seeing her in a way I never had before - human and in need of comfort.

I am sorry that I did not go up and see Grandma Pete, but I just could not do it, and that was selfish of me - very juvenile.

I think that I will miss him more or just as much as my 3 real grandfathers!

So, good bye Grandpa Pete - I loved you, though I never told you so.


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Grandma Pete
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