I’ve been thinking of my grandpa a lot lately. My grandma gave us his recliner and my parent’s were down (up? over?) a couple of weeks ago to deliver it. I can just see him propped up “reading” the newspaper with eyes closed. I have a screensaver that scrolls through my digital photo albums. Pictures of my grandpa with my children, playing ball or telling stories, tug at my heart.
Lots of things make me think of my Grandpa, but songs bring him closer than anything else. I can hear his strong, scratchy voice singing folk songs and hymns in with his West Texas twang. I’ve been singing “There’s a Hole in My Bucket” and can just about hear my grandfather’s voice. As well as impotence issue of erectile dysfunction, lowering the ability for manufacturing testosterone that can lead to a self fulfilling prophecy. viagra pfizer 100mg About sildenafil generico viagra 30 per cent of this category of men feel uncomfortable to discuss his impotency issues with people around him. The medicine starts its work after 30 minutes of ingestion and it will remain active in your body about 4to5 buying viagra in canada hours. For the treatment of the disease, we have got viagra discount india . (I must confess, I do get impatient with Dear Henry’s silly questions. If I’d been Liza, I’d have been tempted to tell him to figure it out for himself. But I guess that doesn’t make for a catchy tune.)
Another one I’ve been singing is “The Green Grass Grows All Around.” This one’s fun because it involves repeating and motions. It’s great to keep the little ones in Sunday School distracted in the last days, er minutes before the parents start coming to pick the little darlin’s up.
These songs and so many others I learned at my grandpa’s knee. As I teach them to my children, I’m passing on my grandfather’s heritage of love of song. I just hope I’m as diligent to pass on other aspects of his legacy: his strength, his humor, his integrity and his love.