I had a dream about my grandfather last night. I can't remember the last time that happened.
Maybe because of everything that is going on in the world. He is my lifeline to common sense. He was a hard working man that only had a fourth grade education and refused to take a hand-out from anyone.
"We can make it."
He helped build airplanes at Boeing, he was an auctioneer and a farmer.
In my dream, I came home. A combination of my house growing up and his house. The door opened to greet the whole family and he was standing there.
He was wearing one of my favorite shirts that I like to wear and his eyes locked on mine. I hugged him hello. He was not an emotional man in real life, but in my dream he hugged me and we both cried tears of joy. He told me how proud he was of me.
We laughed at how much my hair now looked like his.
What was that all about? Why did I have that last night?
My grandfather was Edward Lee Janssen. My name is Glenn Edward Lee Beck.
I wrote about him in the book The Christmas Sweater. 1791 just perfected a 100% American-made jean and clothing line based on him and his budget ($65).
But neither of these played a role. At least I don't think so.
Maybe it is a simple as I feel fat like my grandpa and I fear I am going home. :)
Hoping it is something better but perhaps as Dickens said: "Nothing more than an undercooked bit of potato."
Pic of grandpa before I was born. About my age now.
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