I mentioned yesterday that we wouldn't be around next weekend. We are headed to Pennsylvania on Friday to celebrate my grandfather's 100th birthday, which he celebrate on May 14. Technically, he is my step-grandfather but he married my grandmother in 1977 when I was 6 years old, so I've known him pretty much my whole life. I don't actually call him "grandpa"; instead, I call him Percy (it's his name!). I remember their wedding a little bit, mainly that the fire siren went off during the reception. I also remember asking what I should call Percy, since I was old enough to understand the situation. He told me I could call him Grandpa, Grandpa Percy, or just Percy. I was a precocious young lad (big shock, I know), so I settled on Percy. My brother and my cousin, who were both 4, followed my lead (as they often did back then). Our younger three cousins, who were all born after 1977, just knew him as Grandpa. And he was a grandpa to us - he and Grandma showed up for special occasions and holidays and we saw them at least twice a year, if not three times. He helped most of the grandkids learn how to ride a bike and famously was climbing an apple tree near our house when he was in his 70s. He is still getting along pretty well and is looking forward to seeing all of the family.
My cousin Erin recently wrote about him in the newspaper she works for and has posted some pitcures and the article on her blog, which you can find here. She is an amazing photographer, so I suggest bookmarking the site and checking back often.