Old Men at McDonalds

I just watched an episode of the Gilmore Girls - first season DVD from Pumpkin, yay - the one where Rory's grandfather takes her to the club to teach her how to play golf and show her off. And it made me miss my grandfather so much. He went to McDonald's every weekday morning. He and his buddies would gather and chat over coffee. They got the senior's discount, less than fifty cents a cup with free refills. Whenever I'd visit I'd go with him. I hated getting up so early to get out there while I was on vacation, but it seemed to mean so much to him that I had to do it. How can you let your grandfather down like that?

He'd always tell them what I was up to and make me discuss some class I was taking (he loved making me tell them about "the gay class" I took at Wesleyan) or mention where I worked. In recent years I'd often be hit up for stock tips or asked if the economy was improving or little things like that. Sometimes they'd ask me about New York or my mom. I'd go for refills for everyone and his friends would say how polite I was and he'd just beam. Sometimes he'd buy me breakfast if I didn't get up in time to have cinnamon raisin toast with him beforehad. And of course he'd give me a hard time about it. I always offered to pay, but he wouldn't hear of it. One of the last times I visited, a rental car screw up ended with me having a bright red truck for the trip. He loved it. Thought it was great and insisted on going everywhere in it, even though it probably wasn't easy for him to get in and out of it. And he pointed it out to all of his friends in McDonald's. His granddaughter was driving a badass truck. It was just such a grandfatherly thing, those trips to McDonald's. And it made me so happy to know that he was proud of me and that he wanted to show me off and talk about me. It's really nice to feel that loved. Especially by someone I loved so much.

I'm so grateful that I got to have those trips to McDonald's with him. I really am. But right now I think I'd give anything to be able to do it again. I hate knowing that I never will.