Ok wow.

Things are busy busy.

Not much time to Blog… but here goes.

Today I want to tell you all a little story.

My grandfather passed away this past weekend.

I’m not going to dwell on it here on the site, but I thought I’d share a little story about him.

A humble little tribute I suppose, but that much at least must be done.

Everything else can wait for a future Blog.

When I was young we would celebrate Christmas on my Mom’s side of the family at Grandma & Grandpa’s house.

It was a quaint little house.

I always liked it there.

As soon as you entered the back door (as we always did) you were faced with a decision. Up the steep flight of stairs to the kitchen, or down the stairs to the basement.

I liked the basement. It was very large, had a shower, a walk-in closet that held all sorts of canned goods. And there were about a million forgotten things in there. As a kid it was like exploring a ship wreck. You never knew if you would find the special little nick knack that would end up being infinitely valuable. (perhaps in a sentimental sense only… but valuable none the less)

And of course the basement was always nice and cool. At least 10 degrees cooler.

Regardless of how wonderful the basement was… we always chose to go up to the kitchen, and enter the house. (basement exploring would have to wait until after we’ve said hello).

There was always a candy dish in the living room.

It was full of “grandma candy”. But when you are a kid and the only candy around is “grandma candy”… that’ll do.

Just off the living room was a little room housing a piano and a guitar.

Sometimes I’d ask grandpa to play the guitar a bit, and sit amazed at how effortlessly he made music.

(Mostly though I’d just sit back there and mess around on the piano until Mom and Dad couldn’t take it any longer.)

Christmas there was pretty low key.

Which was nice.

But every now and then someone would get a hall tree as a present! My grandpa was incredible with building things, and wood working in general. It was always so cool to see someone get an item he made.

The thing is…

First Ted got one.

Then Reagan.

It didn’t take long to figure out that the hall tree, as great as it was, was a right of passage.

It signified that you were one of the big kids now. And that you should expect the future Christmas presents to reflect that.

In other words… there wouldn’t be as many.

And the ones you got would be more appropriate for older kids.

Clothes.

5 bucks.

Nothing at all.

Still I wanted that hall tree like you wouldn’t believe!!

He always put something on the bottom to mark the hall tree as yours when you got it.

I was so happy the year I got my hall tree!!

It was unreal how excited I was. Of course I had to play it down… I was a big kid now after all.

That’s the kind of man he was. He could pull off something so everyday and yet so special that a kid at Christmas was glad to get the signal that sweaters would replace baseball gloves.

Wow.

I still have that hall tree.

Still use it too.

I imagine I always will.

After all… it’s got my name on the bottom.

Everett Tarr, my Grandpa, will be missed.

As much as possible we will miss him with smiles.

He gave us enough to last.