Ode to Pop Pop

Today would have been Pop Pop's 90th birthday. This is him to the right, in his Marine uniform circa 1940. Right down the hill from my mom's place is the little house where I would stay with him and Gran each summer. We would hang out in the garage and he would teach me all kinds of fun things, like the difference between a nut and a bolt, how not to pick up the red ants and most important, how to sort the "dumb" mail from the "good" mail. (We would take his pick up to the post office, that was my favorite part of each day.) We would eat fresh cantalope each morning and do the Jumble puzzle together. I was a lot better at it then, I can't seem to figure out a single word these days. Perhaps, though, he would do it for me and I just thought I was smart. Later in life, we became pen pals. We would write letters all the time, when I was in high school, university and especially when I lived in Montreal with the Bucci's. He was really glad that I married an Italian and was probably bummed when it didn't work out. He never held it against me, though. The last time I saw him we were in Daytona Beach and he took me out to lunch and kept teasing me about my hair flip. I had a habit of flipping my hair from one side to the other and he just thought it was hysterical. He passed away in January 1996, and the single biggest regret I have to this day was not attending the service. I just can't believe what was up with me. It was the single most selfish act of my life. However, I can honestly say that I was there for him when he was alive and I guess that is more important than anything I could have done after he passed. I love you Pop Pop and I will think about you everyday on my trip.
Ti volgio bene!