The dog that is the reason behind me calling my Grandpa “Grandpa Bux” is long gone, but that hasn’t broken the habit. My Dad’s Dad will always be Grandpa Bux to me and he is now Grandpa Bux to my kids. What can I say… it is what it is. Being named after a dead dog probably isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but my Grandpa Bux likes coffee (and chocolate) so… Grandpa Bux it is and will be.
My Grandpa and Grandma used to take Beth and I camping in their big Pace Arrow. We spent a lot of time in that camper. My Grandpa was behind the boat wheel the first time I got up on water skis. He saved me from the giant Northern Pike that I reeled in and then proceeded to flop all around the boat in a terrifying manner. I will never forget when our dog Brandy was with us out on the boat and he was panting and so hot and Grandpa just picked up the overfed cocker spaniel and tossed him in the lake. I thought my dog was going to drown. Brandy didn’t drown and was much happier, soaking wet. A lot of my favorite memories of Grandpa Bux are at the lake. It was very special day when Grandpa Bux, my dad, my boys and I went out fishing. It has been a few years now but I think we need to make it a priority to get out onto the lake again this summer. After all, Elise hasn’t got a chance to ride in Grandpa’s boat yet!
Happy 80th Grandpa. I can’t wait to see you at Christmas. Love you.