You brought me nearer the past. As my oldest grandparent, you had a harder time than the others at getting down on the floor to play, but it didn't stop you. Nothing ever really stopped you, or any of your generation. My generation is the instant gratification generation, wanting it now or not at all. Yours wanted it, and plugged away until you got it, no matter how long that took or how hard it was.
You didn't really understand my sense of humor. Daddy tells me that when he was growing up, you didn't understand his, or his mother's, either. You didn't understand a lot of what motivated me, the goals I had, or the goals I couldn't find. I was fifteen in 1992 and 1993. You were fifteen in 1926. The world has changed a lot since then.
No matter what you understood, though, you loved me enough to trust that whatever I thought, whatever I wanted, was important enough to fight for. You loved all of your grandchildren that deeply, and supported us all in any way you could. You went to every Little League game and dance recital you could. I'm sure you wanted to be at my high school plays and band concerts, and were only stopped by the distance.
I was lucky enough to have you at my high school graduation. None of the others had that; by Michael's graduation the following year, you were bedridden and we all knew it was only a matter of time, and you died only a few weeks later. In fact, all four of my grandparents were at my graduation, and three years later, my brother had only me and our parents. Still, I believe that your love has been with all of us, through high school graduations, and college graduations. When and if I get married, I am sure I will feel the force of your love with me on that day.
I strive, each day, to love my family and my friends with the strength and absolute conviction you always displayed.