Tuesday, August 16, 2011

So it goes.

My grandmother (and last surviving grandparent) died last week.
Unfortunately I hadn't seen her in seven years. My memories are all
good, however. Every year or two as a kid we'd go to her log cabin
that she and my grandpa built on a lake outside Hunstville, Ontario.
She had an RV, "the camper," that I thought was the coolest thing
ever, a big black and white cat with really long hair (and fleas)
named Star, and a pool. She and Grandpa took me to the National
Storytelling Festival. Awesomely, she and George drove to Maine to
pick me up at the end of my first big hike, the Appalachian Trail.
Rest in peace, Grandma.


  1. I'm sorry for your loss. I'm sure she'll be missed.

  2. Thanks for saying some nice things about Grandma, Garret. Even though she wasn't my biological Grandma, I loved her very much and felt close to her. One of my grandma's died before I was born, and I wasn't close to my other grandma. Both my grandfathers died when I was eight. So Grandma Wesel felt like my adopted grandma to me. I was really sad that we weren't able to make it to her memorial service. But I'm thankful that Andy recorded it and made a website so we could watch it later.

    My younger brother Scott is hiking the John Muir Trail right now, about 60 miles in. He's made some trail friends and is learning about trail names.

    Best wishes in Africa,

  3. Sorry about your Grandma G... I lost mine too while I was on the GET. I was extremely close to both my moms parents. It hit me like a ton of bricks. She will be deeply missed for sure. I am going to take that new touring bike out for a spin to ID this fall and put her ashes in the Snake River where grandpa is. Adios Viejo.