Instead of camping this weekend, I ended up flying to NH for my grandfather’s funeral. He was 95 years old and it was time. It was nice to be with family, many of whom I hadn’t seen in over 15 years, and reminisce together. He was my paternal grandfather, Grampa Maxwell, and he was a remarkable person. He will be dearly missed.
The Maxwell clan is a truly pleasant and easy-going crowd to hang with, if I do say so myself. It made me a little sad to be so far away from that whole side of my family. I don’t see them nearly enough.