well as i’m sure most of you know, my grandfather passed away last week. the funeral was one of those three day affairs that rips your heart out, stomps on it a couple of times for good measure, then slaps it back into your chest, using only a rusted sewing needle and dental floss to stitch it all back together.

the only good to come out of the whole thing was that i did get to see a lot of family that i hadn’t seen in a long time. it seems we only get together at weddings and funerals, but i digress. i was reacquainted with the italian side of the family which is always memorable. cousin freddie had lots of stories to tell of my grandfather which he would generously preface with, “and this is a true story.”

my grandfather, although deaf from the age of three, was quite the stud. he and his brother sam, also deaf, were two very handsome guys. and as cousin freddie said, you had to have bait to catch fish. they would get dressed up in their zoot suits, black hats cocked to the side, long chain hanging from the pocket, and head out for a night of dancing. the palladium, casa loma, you name it, they were there. and i guess it worked because according to cousin freddie, sam and my grandpa fred always got the dames. he was a deaf guy that loved to dance; kind of ironic, but pretty cool nonetheless.

grandpa and his best girl, my grandma marion, still went out dancing even after they had two kids. my dad said that his parents would drop him and his sister off at their grandparents on fridaynight, and they would go out dancing all weekend, and come back in time for family dinner on sunday. those crazy kids.

i really only remember dancing with my grandpa once. we were at my aunt’s wedding and i was sixteen. i had these ridiculous black heels on that i borrowed from my mother that i could barely walk on, much less dance (spiky, three inches. if you know my mother, you’d understand…). a fast song came on with a quick bass beat and my grandpa had me doing circles all over that dance floor. he was good. and i was a graceless sixteen year old with bad shoes.

and there it was. the stories. that’s what made it all bearable. telling tales, hearing the memories of others, getting those best parts of everyone and their little connections to this guy that everyone loved.

he will be missed.

ora sta ballando fra le stelle.