Grandpa Ochoa taught me how to shoot a straw wrapper at unsuspecting victims.
When we would go out to dinner, he would tell me to get the attention of our waitress by snapping my finger and shouting “YO BETTY!”
He would tell my sister things like “You’re pretty. Pretty ugly.” And whenever I did something dumb he would ask “Yeesh! They got any more like you at home?”
Because of him, every time I am near an impressionable young child my first instinct is to encourage harmless yet inappropriate mischief.
50% of my smart-assery was inherited from him. The other 50% was from my other Grandpa. I had some damn funny grandpas.
One year ago today, my aunt called me to tell me that Grandpa Ochoa passed away. It was unexpected, so none of us got to say goodbye.
While most people are celebrating a three-day weekend and “our nation’s independence,” I am celebrating the life of one of the most charming, influential, and loving people in my life.
S’okay? S’aright.
1 comment:
My gramma came to visit the other day; she 89. She told my friends stories about the war and marriage. I'm totally going to be an awesome gramma! Can you be my grandkid's fake grampa? We can teach them rap songs and cute little quirks they'll keep until the kids in preschool make fun of them!
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