My long-passed grandfather's birthday is coming up, and for me, it is a time to reminisce. The long walks we used to take. The long drives. The special trips he would make to pick me up so

My long-passed grandfather's birthday is coming up, and for me, it is a time to reminisce. The long walks we used to take.
The long drives. The special trips he would make to pick me up so we could go on our little adventures.

I remember the way he’d always tell me the same stories, even if he’d already told them a hundred times before.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I wrestled a bear?" he’d ask, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Yes, Grandpa. At least a dozen times."

"Well, did I tell you I won?"

"Yes, Grandpa. You always win."

He’d nod proudly and pat my head.

I also remember the time he let me drive his old pickup truck when I was way too young to have a license. He just leaned back and said, "If you can reach the pedals, you can drive!"

Of course, I couldn’t.

So, he tied bricks to my shoes.

And let’s just say the mailbox never stood a chance.

But my favorite memory of all? The way he always found a way to make me laugh—even in the most unexpected moments.

Like that one time, when he was getting older and a little forgetful, he asked me to drive him to the store. We got halfway there before he suddenly gasped.

"Oh no!"

"What is it, Grandpa?" I asked, concerned.

"I forgot my wallet!"

"That’s okay, I can pay."

"No, no, it’s not that. I also forgot where we were going."

I miss him every day, but I know that somewhere up there, he’s still telling his bear-wrestling stories—probably with an even bigger bear this time.