Grandpa, it's your birthday and here's what we say:
We've had so many memories that we celebrate today.
So much to cover, we're not sure where to start
So we'll go with Indiana, a place dear to all our hearts.
On the farm, we learned to drive, both in tractors and in cars,
And we learned the importance of The Weather Channel, with its dopplers and radars.
For the weatherman would tell us what on the rain gauge we would see,
Which, in turn, would tell us what kind of Christmas it would be!
From Gramps we became schooled in Indiana lore,
From Bobby Knight to the 500 to the Colts' football score.
Breckenridge also holds many memories and tales-
Nightly games of euchre with your favorite giggling, dizzy females.
When we'd head out for skiing, in Gramps' car we would all pile,
And while we hit the mountain, he'd hit his comfy chair for a while.
And then there was that time in Florida, at lunch in a vacation week,
When the next thing we knew, the ceiling had sprung a leak!
If there's one thing we all know, the best drink is Beefeaters-
With olives, on the rocks, and at Christmas it's given in liters.
All of us have so many special memories with you,
Like secret handshakes and quarters earned by not whining, just to name a few.
So many fancy dinners, where we all eat to our fill,
Ending the night with a sadistic game we call "Who can guess the bill?"
This poem could go on for hours, but there's nothing we can say
To put into words what's in our hearts, how you touch our lives in every way.
Our Grandpa- the generous, kind, and hardworking soul,
Always quick to joke or laugh, making our lives joyous, loving, and full.
Thank you for everything you've given us all-
Happy Birthday- eighty years- let's raise a glass to celebrate it all.
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