asshole memories

I just remembered something really funny to me. A few years ago, a time when my grandfather still roamed the earth like a slow leaf eating dinsaur. a time when he used a cain to walk, and lived in a silver jetstream trailer, and watched baseball and ate hungry man microwave meals and had a hidden bottle of brandy under the counter, hidden because my mother didn't allow him to drink anymore. a time when he was in his early 90s and me early 20s. he liked to talk about his past like grandfathers often do. he only lost one fight and he was a legend of a man to me and the local baseball community. he was a scout for the reds and also worked in anaheim in earlier years at angel stadium. he was so old that he worked at both olympics in los angeles. one in 1984 and one so far back in time that I can't remember the year.

one spring i drove up for easter from los angeles to paradise california where my family lives and he used to live before he went away to where grandfathers often go when years become too many to count. i had a funny idea to dress one of the easter eggs with a swastika and red paint. it was a funny egg and i laughed at it. it was a simple joke for myself and it made easter a better memory, for it can be quite a boring holiday. i gave that egg to my grandfather as he was sitting in the backyard of our house watching my little brother shea look for hidden eggs. i wondered many times if he enjoyed watching us look for eggs from year to year to year to year. when i handed him the egg he looked down into his colossal hand to look at the eggs decorations. he was color blind and often described colors in ways that are strange to children. he looked down at the nazi egg and i saw him crack an ancient smile as if he was etched it the deserts of the middle east. he then cracked the egg to eat it, and went back to watching shea collect eggs. not looking me in the face ever he said "asshole" with a grin placed perfectly in my holiiday memories forever.