Today, February 29th, marks 32 years (or 8 February 29ths) since my Grampa passed away. My parents were away in Reno and my Mom's sister was watching us at our house. We had gone to my Granny and Grampa's for supper the night before and were eager to get home to watch the Grammy Awards. I remember giving my Grampa a kiss goodnight and him teasing my sister and I about wanting to leave so quick to go home to watch Michael Jackson. We wanted him to win everything. I was 11 and really just starting to get into music. The next day at school we were supposed to watch a movie about getting your period and all the girls in class were so excited and nervous with anticipation about what it would be about. My Aunt showed up to school early and pulled me and my sister from our classes and I remember being so angry with her. She couldn't speak or tell me what was going on. We left the school and headed directly to my grandparents place and my Granny met us at the door sobbing. It was awful and my first real taste of death. My parents were called and came home later that day I think. I don't have many other memories of him other than us sitting in the back of his pickup on our way to the family cabin. He would always pull over once we were in the woods on the dirt road and cut us off a huge branch of huckleberries to eat as we made the journey to the best place on earth. I swear I can still hear his voice while I imagine sitting on his knee that night while he teased us about our love for Michael Jackson. Funny the things that stick with you. My sister, my Aunt and I were the last to see him alive other than my Granny. I'm so grateful for this memory. How I wish he were still around to tease us today.