I don't want to BE Grandpa K. Not exactly. Just enough.
We paid our final respects to Howard Kirkpatrick today and honestly, it was one of my more difficult days. We weren't that close, but we were friends.
Funerals are never easy but this one was especially tough because today, there is one fewer genuinely good people in the world. At a time when we can ill afford to lose even one.
Howard departed on his own terms, free from disease... his only enemy, time. Not many can say that. But more than that, he really did live a loving and unselfish life. Not to sound maudlin or cliche, but he gave more than he took. Taught more than he learned. Loved more than he was loved.
And I wonder... how did he do it? What was his secret? From where does that kind of honest-to-goodness positivity come? Days like this tend to make me introspective. For what will I be remembered? What will they say when I'm gone? I really don't know.
Truth is, Howard didn't know either. He had no idea because he didn't worry about such things. It would have taken too much time and effort. He was just... Grandpa K.
His mojo came naturally. And that's really the secret, isn't it? Either you have it, or you don't. It can't be contrived or forced.
He didn't mean to be anything special. And that's why he was.
And so shall I carry on. Not particularly caring how I will be perceived, but knowing that if I live right and love much, then THAT is what I will have done with my life.
And that will be just enough.