perfidy

Today, my grandfather would have turned 100. He didn't make it here. Pancreatic cancer got him two decades back. But I've been thinking about him all day, today, every time I see the 11-11. My grandfather had a thing about numbers. There were good numbers, and there were bad numbers. He'd have my dad get him license plates from the other side of the state because the license plate numbers issued in NW Ohio were better than the ones in NE Ohio. One time, my dad pranked him, though. Told him he'd gotten a license plate XQ-5381. "Oh, no." He liked numbers that had patterns, or were in some subtle way harmonious. I like to think that that all started because of his birthday, which like today was 11-11-11. He also liked writing on things. He annotated his physical world. When I was five, he took me down to his cabin in Tennessee. We went hiking over to Cumberland Gap, and he made me a walking stick, just my size. He whittled a handle for me, but he didn't stop there. He took a pen and wrote

Cumberland Gap, Tennessee 8-26-1974

I may have the date wrong. My mom sent me a picture today. There was a beautiful tree on the hill behind the farm house he retired to. Grandpa posted this warning: I miss Grandpa.  I wish he could have lived long enough to meet his great-grandchildren.