Sometimes in life your past or the people in it, surely define you or predict your future. I didn't know my dads parents. They both passed away when my dad was around 7/8 years old. My grandmother had cancer and my grandfather died of a heart attack in his late 40's. I never heard my dad speak of either parent but I think it was due to him not knowing them very long or the lack of remembering. Because my dad was young, his two older sisters weren't much older. One was in her teenage years and the other was just married and starting a family. Neither having the means to take care of their little brother. A family member took my dad in and raised him on their farm with their 4 children. It wasn't the ideal place, so as soon as my dad was able to, he joined the Navy and moved on. My mom's dad passed away when I was around 5 years old. I don't remember him much besides the fact that he was very tall, he had black hair and I was named after him. I was suppose to be a boy, and my grandfather's nickname was Tony. I guess you figured out they just added an "A" to his name to get mine. He too died from cancer and my mom was the same age I was when she lossed her dad. I also remember him falling asleep sitting up on our couch with his hat pulled down over his eyes, his arms and legs both crossed. I guess it's the little things that you remember at 5 years old. My grandmother was a spit fire and had the gift of gab. Everyone loved her and called her their friend. She would take in a stray dog or a man if they were in need. That is where I received my love of dogs. My grandmother would feed her dogs, Rusty and Pepper, steak while she would eat a hot dog and every where we would go, she had a doggie bag in her purse to go home. No chicken bone was left on the table. Most of the time grandma wouldn't carry a purse, she carried a pocket book or a change purse and her cash was in her bra.... along with deodorant, a comb and anything else she could fit in there. My grandma loved to play cards, build puzzles and do word games or puzzles like Sudoku. She loved to read and write poetry and write letters or notes as well. My mom is a caregiver at heart. So when each family member became sick and couldn't take care of themselves, she would take them in to our home until they took their last breath. My grandmother lived with us a few times. I remember as a kid playing cards with her, she would always try to make us laugh even if that meant cheating at the game. When she got older she came to live with us because she developed dementia. At that time she had a little chihuahua named Baby. Ohhh the story behind him. Before she came to live with us, her sweet Baby was torn into pieces by a big dog. My grandma called my mom needing help because she was going to have to pay the vet to literally sew Baby back together and just like her granddaughter (me) she would do anything for her Baby! Years later, grandma's dementia got worse and worse. To the point she didn't know the person that fed her 3 meals a day. My mom took great care of her only to have her heart broken when she didn't even know her name. Many times we would have to just laugh at the moments rather than cry. One of my favorite stories about my grandma was when her little Baby came up missing. My mom could see her outside searching for her little dog but didn't hurry out to help, instead she just watched patiently. My grandma kept peeking in to a big garbage can, opening and closing it many times. Most likely due to the confusion dimentia causes. Once my grandma went back into her apartment, my mom went to check that garbage can. Sure enough Baby had passed away and grandma had laid him in his final resting place. All four feet in the air and stiff as a board. My mom gave him a proper burial and we still laugh about that whole day. The second story that always makes me laugh is when my grandma would come next door to my mom and step dad's restaurant. She would walk between the buildings, walk in to the bar area, and ask for a beer. She was 80, if she wanted a beer a day, why not, right? She would drink her beer and mosey back home to her apartment. However, she would get half way home, sit down at a picnic bench to catch her breath and forget which direction she was traveling. So, you could possibly see her a few times a day and every time she would open the door to come in for her one beer, she would say hello to everyone like it was a brand new day. The smile on her face was priceless! We did have to shut her off after a few trips. She was a short round woman but she had the personality of a giant. My grandma passed away at 80 years old. She may not have been the best mom, but she was a wonderful grandma and I'm happy she gave me the love of dogs. There is your daily dose of T.