Touching story on drinking your grandfather’s last sip of bourbon.

My Grandpa Premuda passed away on Saturday. He was 81. While I will miss him, it’s a blessing that he passed. His health hasn’t been great for well over a year. I always loved the time I spent with him; he was a large influence on my personality. If you know me, you know my Grandpa.

During one of my more recent visits with him, he and I were spending the morning watching the news and drinking coffee. When he finished is coffee he looked at me, winked, then began tapping his cup on the arm of his chair. I had no idea what he was doing until he nodded in the direction of my Grandma. Grandma laughed and said, “can you believe him” and brought over the coffee pot for refills. He laughed like he did — his eyes squinted tight and a soft chuckle — and smiled at her and said, “thanks dear.”

Some of my best memories of Grandpa revolved around golf. Whether it be him walking through the house shaving with his electric razor as we got ready to head to the course or farting during his practice swing and saying, “whoops”, I always loved talking, watching and playing golf with Grandpa. Fittingly, the group of golfers Grandpa played with called themselves the Idiots — more focused on fun than golf.

From one Idiot to another, Grandpa I love you and will miss you. Rest in Peace.

Premuda Family Coat of Arms: A cock (rooster), on a green hill, singing at the rising sun.