My Grandpa As I walk into the living room of my grandparent?s pretty and old house, I hear my grandpa over my grandma?s t.v. show, Golden Girls.
?Not you again?!? Grandpa would moan as if he didn?t want me around.
?You know you love me,? I would reply every time.
My grandpa and me had a weird connection. He never had to say he loved me because I knew he did.
He always wore an old white T-shirt with his white hair always parted to the side. I always wanted to tell him to find a new style, but I just left it alone, because he was fine just the way he was.
When I would go to his and my grandma?s house for the holidays, I would always play with his hair. I don?t think he liked it much, but he didn?t ever say anything. When my mom and I left, I would give everyone hugs and kisses.
Of course he gave me the most trouble every time. He would always scream ?help? or ?ew? when I tried to kiss him. I know he loved it though.
Every Sunday he would go to his so called ?church.? It was also known as Maxwell Street. It was a place where they sold products for less on the streets. It reminds me of the Sandwich Fair, but without all the games and rides. While he and my mom would go there, I would go to the real church with my grandma the whole morning. When all of us met back at their house, we would go out to breakfast in the same restaurant. My grandpa would always joke and tell me that he hoped I had money with me, because he didn?t bring any to pay the bill. Whenever we...