My grandfather was a quiet man. He never spoke much but was always a strong presence in a room. He was well liked and respected in our small town. He was very musical and I think that is among my fondest memories of him, watching and listening to him play the guitar and harmonica tapping his foot to a beat. He always seemed happiest when he was playing an instrument. Although not one for many words, he loved to tell the same story to my sister and I about a rabbit running through a field. We would sit on his knee and laugh with delite as he bopped us up and down as if running through the grass ourselves. When I was a bit older, I can remember visiting my grandparent's house and always sitting with my grandfather in their den, watching TV in silence. Family members would come into the roo...

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