They buried my Grandpa today. I wish I could have been there. I wasn’t really close to him after I got married and moved away, but I will miss him. I loved watching him play old gospel music on his guitar (and an occasional verse or two of Folsom Prison Blues and the like) while we (mostly my Dad) would sing along. We never seemed to get through an entire song before we thought of another one. Sometimes he would watch my brother and I on summer break while Mom and Dad were at work. I remember he once tried to teach us to whistle with a blade of grass held between our thumbs. I never could get it right…he said I was blowing out the wrong end. He loved Jesus. Maybe he can give me another lesson some day :)