eighty

This handsome fellow turned eighty last weekend.

He is the gentle voice that reads the story of the birth of Jesus to us every Christmas.  He is the singer of the same tunes over and over and the one with the infectious, hilarious laughter that fills you up.  He is the voice who read The Ant and Bee books to me a thousand times.  He is the one eating chocolate cake and chocolate ice cream at the same time.  He is the gardener and farmer.  He is the man of few words and the voice of Donald Duck.  He is the victor over cancer.  He is the quiet strength and beautiful soul you wish you could be.

He is Grandaddy.