Ken Dols / July 10, 1921 - January 3, 2012

when i was in third grade my classmates and i wrote autobiographies. i do not remember the titles of every chapter, but one i do remember is "my favorite relative".

i wrote about Grandpa. i haven't yet dug through "the liz box" at Mom and Dad's house to find the project, but i can imagine what i might have written.

i'm sure i wrote about how he taught me to fix things, how to work with my hands, and how to measure twice and cut once. i'm sure i wrote about going to the cabin and playing outside and going on the boat. i'm sure i wrote about peanuts and the smell of pipe smoke. i wrote about how he taught me about math and made me do my homework while i was staying at their house when Mom and Dad would go away. he took the training wheels off my bike while they were out of town, too.

there are so many memories to sort through. Mom and i just finished going through box upon box of photographs. we are so lucky to have so many memories. there were many photos that made us laugh out loud, many that made us say, "oh, remember this?", and many of people we hold dear in places we love. not everyone has that kind of a family. i'm glad we do.

the four of us went to lunch today, Jim, Mom, Dad, and me. it wasn't a sad affair, and for the most part we didn't talk too much about Grandpa. but his passing weighs heavy on our minds, and in our hearts. i'm glad for all the good times - thanksgiving at the lake, summers at the cabin, overnight stays at Grandma and Grandpa's house. he loved his grandchildren and all he taught us - about doing the right things, about fixing things, about loving the outdoors and travel, and about working hard - will prove to be his lasting legacy.

thank you, Grandpa, for teaching me all you know. i'll miss you. i love you.