R.I.P.
06/04/03
My grandfather, Eppy, died this afternoon, just shy of 90 years old.
I'll never forget the time he taught me to play chess, assigning point values to the various pieces. (I later found out there were no points in chess.) Or the little puzzles he'd create for me. Or the debris he collected on his way through life -- everything from a roll of produce price stickers from Waldbaum's to mismatched encyclopedia volumes. His scavenger genes (and his cheapskate genes) live on in me.
At times like this, all we can do is remember. Perhaps most of all, I remember him through his paintings:
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Comments
may his soul rest in peace.
what grandparents give us, will stay with us and we will give to our nephews. he gave you art.