Last month in October I grabbed a flight one tuesday night leaving the next morning from Salt Lake City to John Wayne (Orange County, California airport). I had found out that my Grandpa Swenson had 24-48 hours to live. I immediately started looking at every possible flight leaving that night or the next day. Wow, the feeling I got when I heard my Grandpa was sick. It was more of a shock. I had had this idea that he was going to live forever. It had felt like it anyway- him being 85 and so active and young at heart. My Grandpa- he was like my father. I felt like he claimed me as his own child. He was always there for me. Not only did he bless me as a child. He also allowed for me be born in his home. I still don't know why they had it that way but just from that I think there was this special bond between my Grandparents and I. He also baptized me when I was eight. I still remember my mother asking me who I wanted to baptize me. And I responded quickly by saying my Grandpa. How blessed and lucky was I that my parents made a special trip from Oregon down to California ( a 23 hour drive) just so that my Grandpa could baptize me. He was there when I graduated Middle School and high school. My grandparents also made a trip to Utah to be there when I got my patriarchal blessing. I felt like I was very close to my Grandpa though- more then a lot of people. I don't know if it was because when I was a kid I was always with him but our birthdays were just days apart. His birthday was two days after mine. I always remember it because it was so close... Poor Grammy, I always forget which day hers is on. My Grandpa we loved each other so much. We shared some really special memories. My favorite- something I remember the most is as a kid being glued to his lap while he ate (or read the paper, or watched the TV). And him sharing every other bite with me. Our favorite treat I think was peaches sprinkled in sugar in milk.
