this weekend I went fishing for the first time since my Grandfather died. He was the last person I went fishing with and that was over 2 years ago. I became aware of how much I missed out on by avoiding him for the couple years I lived up here. I couldn't ID any of the fish I caught, he knew them all. I forgot how to tie a fisherman's knot. I don't know how to fish for muskie, or pike, or northerns. He knew almost everything about fishing. I was the only one who shared the interest with him, and I let him go without learning any of the wisdom he gained over his entire lifetime.

Granted he lived half the year in FL, and the other half up here, but during the here time I didn't make any effort to see him.

I met him for my birthday shortly after I moved up here he bought me lunch, and we barely talked I was so uncomfortable.

I spent some great time with him after my sister's wedding for a whole afternoon in SC. It made me sad to see how weak and sick he was. He bought me lunch, I felt guilty for letting him, but I didn't have any money. We drove around for the day and really talked, looking at buildings and antique stores.
I went fishing with him for 2 days in a row out on his boat, we finally made it past whatever was holding us apart. That summer he had the stroke and died about 1/2 year later.

Growing up he was always my favorite relative, i spent a summer with him alone when I was 12 and he had a HALO (medical brace that screwed into your head to hold your neck and shoulders immobile) he fixed his lawnmower so I could ride it then I promptly ran over his grapevines and some rhubarb.
When I was little he caught me stealing a soda from his fridge, proved it was fresh by how cold it was, then for the ffirst time in my life I was punished for something by him telling me he was ashamed of me. I almost died.
Enough of this..