The next blog entry was supposed to be about New Orleans, about the outsider metality, or maybe even a travel blog, but then this.  It doesn’t feel right posting it on Facebook.  It needs to be more personal, as personal as one can get these days when we live our lives in pixels and passing updates.

Gordon Ensley passed away today.  He was my grandfather and he did an amazing job as one.  He is the last of our (my sister and I) grandparents to pass.  Wherever he went, I hope he’s with Grandma and Fred the dog and Susie the cat and I hope they all live in a big green farmhouse with a porch swing, chickens, and a strawberry field.  I hope she’s giving him that look, that look that we all knew meant business, lovingly.  Most of all, I hope he left fulfilled.  I know I’m a better person because of him, I know we all are.  He was kind, warm, funny, and made you feel like a million bucks when you walked in the door.  He was one of the most genuinely golden people I knew.

As is too often the case, my regret is not spending enough time with him, but I know he led a full life with people who loved him.  And that’s something.  That’s something.

I just wish you could have known him.


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