It is with an incredibly heavy heart that I write this post, in memory of my Grandfather: Walter Conklin.
February 16th, 1918 — July 12th, 2006

The world lost a great man this week: a policeman, a soldier, a gentleman.

My Grandfther wore many hats in his 89 years on the planet. He was a husband, father, grandfather and great-grandfather. He worked in insurance, in transportation (on the NYC subway), as a police officer, a soldier, a deputy sheriff, and a volunteer ambulance driver. He ushered at church, ran fundraisers for the same, built furniture by hand and was generally a jack of all trades.
But more then these things, he was a gentleman. He was always ready to lend a helping hand, always spotlessly dressed, always there for anyone who needed him.

Grandpa and Grandma, looking dashing.

He loved playing golf, shooting photos, munching of cookies, singing (terribly loud and horribly out-of-key) and, most of all, naps. And all he ever really wanted in life was to one day own a Cadillac.

Stylin, aren’t they? Grandpa and Grandma in Bermuda, 1970’s

The last few weeks have been a rollercoaster of emotion for me and my family. Two weeks prior to his death my grandfather was admitted to the hospital with servere pnuemonia. His last days were very difficult, struggling to breathe and unable to speak. But when I visited, he winked at me upon arrival and held my hand fiercely while I told him stories.
I know he is now in a better place (driving a Caddy in heaven, surely) and his passing was the end of his suffering. Still, I am deeply sad that I will never again giggle at his singing, comb his hair for a nickle, hear his stories or feel his arms around me in one of his bear hugs.
I will miss him everyday.
He was my hero.