Yesterday morning my dad called me with the sad news that my grandpa, his dad, passed away. While I wasn’t that close to my paternal grandparents, the news still upset me a lot. Growing up they lived in Florida. I was born in Florida but only lived there for a few years before we moved to Wisconsin. From Wisconsin we’d take long roadtrips to Florida about every other year, but when I got to high school that pretty much ended. The last time I saw my grandpa was when my grandma passed away a couple years ago. His health was already on the decline and he lived in a nursing home but he was still coherent and was able to get around a bit. I was thankful to spend time with him because when my grandma passed I hadn’t seen her for about 8 years.

One thing I do remember, my fondest memory, you might say, was when I was pretty young and we were visting my grandparents in Florida. My grandpa grew a small patch of sugar cane in their backyard. Grandpa would cut off a slice, cut off the outside skin so we just had a piece of white sugar cane and we would chew and suck on it until we got all of the juice out. I remember it tasting sweet, but kind of watered down sweet. Like I thought it would be even sweeter, like tasting PURE sugar. As a kid, I was kind of let down, but still liked it anyway. I remember coming back from my vacation and several years later sitting in class. My teacher told our science class that the only place in the United States where sugar cane was grown was in Hawaii. He was sure of it. Of course, I raised my hand and proudly told the class that I’d eaten sugar cane in Florida with my grandpa.

I also remember how he’d always write in our Christmas cards how warm the weather was in Florida at that time of the year. As a kid, this made me always want to move to Florida. My grandparents are survived by their 8 children, over 20 grandchildren and more than 7 grandchildren so far. They are missed.

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