In memory of my Grandpa.

My 91-year-old Grandpa Harold Brown died on Saturday, October 23rd.

He was known for his silly sense of humor, his big-hearted kindness, his love of long country drives, and his keen ability to locate the nearest ice cream stand, even in the middle of nowhere.

His business card (that I’m sure one of his grandkids made!) boasted “Woodworking Extraordinaire” and his specialization in low bid furniture, the most complex designs, and guaranteed low prices.

Our bond was unique because as long as I can remember, he encouraged me to be exactly who I am. Even when I was young, he called me “a sparkplug.” Growing up I was never too loud or too much or too picky with him, he celebrated and encouraged me just exactly as I am. Maybe it was because he and I were often the two jokesters trying to make everyone laugh.

He had a way of seeing and connecting with people that was so special. He really listened to who and what people cared about. Everyone he came across was just another new friend. Growing up, I remember thinking “Wow, Grandpa knows everyone!” That was true in his little town of Marathon, NY where he was a dairy farmer and then ran Brown’s Trailer Sales for 38 years. And, I noticed he treated complete strangers with the same curiosity, kindness, and humor he would freely extend towards a family member or a lifelong friend.

He was preceded in death by his “two loves of his life” as he would often say. He met Betty Lou, his first wife, in 2nd grade and they were married at 19. After Betty Lou passed away, he married my Grandma Sarah. Three years after they were married, they both lost a son in a motorcycle accident within months of each other.

When my Grandma was experiencing dementia in the final years of her life, my Grandpa was loving and patient. He would hold her hand everywhere they went and answer her questions as if they were new every time. He’d tell anyone who’d listen that he’s the luckiest man on earth to have had two loves of his life. I admired how he spoke with love and pride about both of his wives after they had passed on. My sister and I never felt like his step-granddaughters even though technically we were… he had more than enough love to extend to all of us.

Both times I lived in New York City, I loved being in the same state as my Grandpa. I enjoyed renting a car to go up and visit him. He’d take me out to eat and take me for a long drive, stopping to say hello to friends and neighbors along the way. He loved playing Rummikub with family and liked to tease his fellow players throughout the entire game. He was often the first to text holiday wishes early in the morning and loved sending and receiving cards and letters. I’ll never forget what a good texter he became in his 80s- adding lots of heart emojis and sending pictures of funny memes.

I had the great honor of getting to be with him the week before he passed. He asked me about my boyfriend, who he hadn’t met, and asked me about my business. He’d ask his daughters, family members, and visitors what was for lunch or dinner and his teasing and his facial expressions would tell you exactly how he felt about their meal. He loved recalling family memories or memories from his Brown’s Trailer Sales days.

Although he lived a wonderfully full life in his more than 91 years, it’s still hard to say goodbye to him. He’s the kind of person I wanted everyone to meet. Maybe in a small way, seeing his pictures and reading about him, you’ll get to meet him too.

When I described him to my Lyft driver who picked me up from the Atlanta airport, he said “Your granddad is a great man. What you say about him is a true reflection.” And he’s right. What we love about others we can be ourselves. So here I am taking long drives, befriending strangers, and not holding back on any of my facial expressions.