You will probably get pretty tired of seeing pictures of my grandson, but I won't be able to help myself. I wished I had a grandfather to play with and teach me things while I was growing up, but that wasn't meant to be.
My maternal grandfather was a wonderful man, but he died when I was about 5 years old. I inherited my love for roses from him. A few years ago, I wrote an article about his beautiful terraced rose garden, and it was published in Country Homes Country Gardens magazine. That was and is one of the high points of my life.
My paternal grandfather didn't make any effort to have anything to do with us grandchildren. Once I grew up and left home, I found out some pretty disturbing things about him. My father ran away from home when he was only 13, because my grandfather was so terrible. He lived to be 93, but I think I only saw him about 10 times during my life. I do have to attribute my love for moose to him, though. Yep, I said moose. He had the largest stuffed moose head I have ever seen hanging above a table in his living room. He went moose hunting often in Canada. (He was Canadian French.) I would never kill a animal, but I was definitely in awe of the stuffed head. I have a collection of moose figurines that substitute for a stuffed head in our home.
That was all a long, roundabout way of telling you I hope I can be a fantastic grandfather to my new grandson. You'll just have to suffer through the pictures I keep posting! :O)