My Granddad

I received some sad news yesterday.

My grandfather passed away after eighty years.

I hate to admit it, but I really don't know that much about him.

I was hoping to cross some of those barriers and ask him 

some dying questions that I've had ever since I was child.

Like when was the first time he started taking pictures?

He was very into communication and journalism like me.

It's in my blood.

Did he ever read Hurn or Sontag to inspire him?

Who was his favorite photographer?

I have no idea.

I didn't really see him unless it was a big event in my adult life.

He came to my high school graduation,

my mission farewell,

and my wedding.

All very special to me.

I guess that's one more reason why I look for joy everyday.

Why it's so important for us to spend time with family

and keep in touch.

Life is too short and time escapes.

But if there's one thing that I'll do for him,

I'll take the advice from Tuesdays with Morrie,

when Morrie says, "When I die, you'll visit my grave and 

you'll do the talking. I'll do the listening."

No worries, it'll be my turn to talk

for all the times, we were both

just a little bit too busy. 

I love you.