Father’s day has been a bit tough for me since my dad died in January of 2008. Yesterday, we lost my grandpa too. He went peacefully in his sleep, leaving behind the pain and illness that clouded the past two years of his life.
Representing both the Swinyard and Fischer families, these two men in my life were leaders, providers, storytellers, and perhaps most importantly, absolutely hilarious. I mean pee your pants, don’t care if 100 people are staring at the strange shit that’s going down, hilarious.
My grandpa taught me how to fish and pilot a boat. He passed down his love of rivers and sunshine, and because of him I will always gravitate to the nearest body of water to feel complete. My dad taught me how to change a tire, make coffee, and throw a punch. I have his eyes, his silliness, and his temper. I inherited his love of learning, camping, excellent meals (with drinks to go along), and perhaps most importantly, amazing music.
I’m grateful to have had them both for as long as we did. Happy Father’s Day.
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