Grandpa Gabby's legacy

Jason's maternal grandfather passed away Thursday night. He was a truly incredible man and I feel honored to have known him for the thirteen years I did. I never once saw Grandpa Gabby in a bad mood, or heard him say anything negative about anyone. He had a way of making people feel really special, important. His daughter Sue posted on Facebook some things she learned from him. I asked her for permission to repost those here because I believe that some of the lessons he taught her can inspire us all. Here is what she wrote:

Some things I learned from my Dad.
“You don’t choose a life, you live one”. That is the message of the movie starring Martin Sheen. I watched that movie last night and while it was an okay movie with a message of how we choose to live our lives it reminded me of my Dad.
He knew how to live the life he had. Some of the choices he made along the way were not always the easiest to live through for him or those around him but he always knew how to make the most out of what was in front of him.
He lived , worked and played hard. He gave his best to everything he did and was loyal to his friends and family beyond the hurts and pains they might bring to him. He taught me about forgiveness in the way he could lay aside the bad that was sometimes handed him.
Once after being deeply hurt by someone he loved I asked him how he could forgive so easily and go on as if nothing had been damaged in the relationship. “You can’t live, like that”, he said. “You forgive by remembering that you also need forgiving for things you have done as well.” And I have to admit that I have not always forgiven others who have offended me or those I love so I try to remember what my Dad told me.
Another thing I learned from my Dad is to try and leave a place better than you found it. Through the years we and later he and my Mom have lived in some homes that others would wonder at the reason it was even allowed to be called a house and certainly not a home. But in almost every case those shabby sometimes ram shackled places became home and took on whatever bit of beauty he could bring to it. He didn’t just stop and smell the roses he planted them, watered them, pruned them into things of beauty and he would never complain about the thorns they might bring but mention only the beauty and fragrance they added to the surroundings.
He also taught me to do my best to live up to my obligations. Don’t promise to do something and then make an excuse as to why it isn’t done. He may have failed in some of his but I saw how hard he struggled when he bit off more than he could chew. There were times when he lived on very little sleep while he held down a full time job and tried to have a little farm, which truth be told the farm was where he would rather be.
He was also not afraid to try new things for fear of failure, though he had plenty of that in some of the ventures he tried. I remember all the chickens. First he tried raising “fryers”, chickens grown then killed and cleaned and sold to market. Then he switched to raising chickens for eggs to sell. After chickens it was hogs. Somewhere in there was a short venture with mushrooms and a small sideline with raising beef. I don’t think he ever made money with any of these ventures but he worked hard at everyone.
Those adventures took place on a small nine acre place in San Jose, California and until very shortly before he died he talked about how he loved that place the first time he saw it and had to find a way to buy it. It is where I grew up climbing trees and sitting at the edge of the creek that flowed along the property. I moved there when I was 6 and left there when I was 17 and the family moved to Oregon.
My Dad also taught me that to have friends you must be a friend. And he had so many. He seemed to have a knack for knowing just how to bring out the best features of those around him and make them feel worthwhile no matter their flaws. Some of his friends where people who were rejected many others because he seemed to have the ability to see the person underneath or inside or perhaps it was their soul he saw.
I could write much about what my Dad taught me. He lived a full and sometimes complicated life but he truly lived the life he had. I love you Dad.