I have many fond memories of my Grandpa Edy. The smell of his percolating coffee early summer mornings. He would wake up before the sunrise, sit in his rocking chair that overlooked his farm and Mt. Hood, turn on his radio station to the daily forecast, write down the measurements from all his weather gauges outside his window all while drinking his hot coffee. Sometimes I would join him just to watch what he was up to.
He smoked a pipe occasionally while he was working on his tractor. He would put me on his lap and call me “Maryhambone”. He would make me and my sibs spaghettios on the days we had lunch in, or take us out for an extravagant Chinese feast in Portland.
Going through my moms photos recently, I found a couple snaps of him and I. One when I was just on a visit from Iran, and another after we had moved to the states. I had my favorite rainbow vest on.
I love you Grandpa- miss you.