John Hugh Morgan
My grandfather, or paw paw, as I called him. I didn't know a whole lot about him, accept he died way to early. He was definitely a country kind of guy. He had a big garden which I sometimes helped him with, he loved to play golf (his nickname was 5 iron). He never had a lot of money, or a big house, or a nice car. He didn't need those things, he was a simple person, with simple needs. He died of lung cancer from smoking. I think I was about nine or ten. I didn't cry at his funeral, I don't think it had sunk in yet that I was never going to see him again. But a few days later while lying in bed it hit me like a ton of bricks, I started seeing pictures of me and him in my head. Then I saw him in his casket, it flashed and the picture got closer, then flash and was closer. I opened my eyes and cried for hours. I know he is watching me from above, I hope I am making him proud, I love you paw paw.
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