My Grandpa Thompson died this morning. He was one of the most unselfish and patient men that I knew. During my childhood, I spent a lot of time working with him on his various projects around the farm; and by watching him, I learned how to be a better man. When I think of him now, I see him sneaking up on a promising fishing hole with his fly rod held low; those fish will never know what hit them. I miss you, Grandpa! I hope that when we meet again, I will have lived a life as full of giving and goodness as yours was.
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