Grandpa's Firetruck

To start, let me admit that I'm extremely blessed to still have all four of my grandparents. Alzheimer's has laid her miserable hand upon my maternal grandfather's thoughts, but the other three are all still very sharp of mind, if not the most physically able anymore.

My paternal grandfather's pride and joy, aside from his family, is his 1956 Seagrave firetruck. Although we've watched him go downhill physically in the last few years, ridin' around in that firetruck just wipes the years off of him. Helpin' Grandpa with the truck has allows many of his grandchildren the opportunity to spend some quality time with him that we otherwise wouldn't get. As I've been not workin' full time anywhere, I've been spendin' way too much time drivin' him from one doctor to the other... playin' with the firetruck is a rather pleasant break from that.

Saturday was the annual York Saint Paddy's Day Parade, a day that Grandpa (who's about as Irish as you can get) looks forward from the day after we get back from the previous year's parade. For the second year, the ancient but able firetruck took top honors for the Best Antique Vehicle. We had 15 or so family members ridin' with the truck, with a few more watchin' from the crowd. After the parade, we all convened at my aunt and uncle's house for a fantastic traditional Irish feast.

Polished up, decorated and ready to go.

My cousin Tori, Grandpa, and our local ball team's mascot

Everyone gets ready for step-off.

Grandpa had the seat of honor on the ride back.

My poor girl was cold... She toughed it out though.

The weather wasn't the best, but it sure was a day that I'll cherish as the years go by.