Gramps was pretty badass. A very opinionated 96 year old, Gramps wasn’t able to hear what I was saying, but that didn’t stop him from talking. Far from it.
His voice, thick with a Hu-Nan accent, would always bubble with excitement whenever Winston and I showed up. He was energetic, loquacious, the most common line directed towards me being “So did you get into Harvard yet?”
Not yet. And now it doesn’t matter anymore.
R.I.P. Gramps. I love you.
