You will be missed.

Wednesday morning, February 13th, at around 2 a.m. or so, the world lost one of the last good men. My grandfather, Arthur Simonsen, passed away.

There are things about him I couldn't tell you off the top of my head. I'm not sure exactly what year he was born, or even in what town. I don't know what year he married my grandmother, or where. These things never seemed to be as important as they seem now.

There are things I do know. I know he served in the army, which was part of my influence to do the same. I know he spent many long, hard years breaking his back working for the railroad to support his family. I know he had four children, and that he outlived one of them, which no parent should have to do. I know he had five grandchildren, and he outlived one of them, too, which might be even worse. I know he had a deep faith in God and Jesus Christ, in spite of, or maybe because of, all of these things.

I know he was a father to me during those years my father had better things to do. He took me camping, he took me fishing, he took me bowling. He came to many of my baseball games. He even came to a few of the plays I was in, even though I know that wasn't really his thing.

There are things I learned from him. I learned that working hard is important, that family always comes first, that you don't need money to be rich, and that you should give the shirt off your back without hesitation if it will help someone else. I learned that crying when you are sad or hurt doesn't make you any less of a man.

And of course, there are a few other more practical things that I learned from him. I learned you never take the radiator cap off when the engine is overheating. Or that it's apparently possible to build your own exercise equipment. I learned that dogs will always be better than cats and that puppies and babies turn grumpy old men into baby-talking old men. I learned that I could never squeeze his hand harder than he could squeeze mine. And I noticed that if you don't swear very often, it makes people pay more attention when you do. I found out that you can drive the same old dodge truck for roughly one hundred years if you keep up on the maintenance. I learned that you can fit a ridiculous amount of stuff into a truck camper if you really try. And last but not least, thanks to him, I know that a real man has a tool for everything, and if he doesn't you better be damn sure he can make one.

Arthur Simonsen, always just Grandpa to me, was never a proud man. He wasn't one to boast (except perhaps about the occasional bowling score). Mostly he was a quiet man, but he was great man, and he was loved by many people. He will be sorely missed in this world, and without a doubt welcomed with open arms in the next.

Goodbye, Grandpa. I love you, and I hope I'll see you again in a better place than this one.