Mowing the lawn makes me think of my grandpa. He was the lawnmower man of Middletown, in other words he tinkered with lawnmowers. I remember countless mornings when I would wake up to the drone of a mower. To this day, there is no white noise quite as gratifying. He kept the lawn immaculate; we didn’t realize how much he did around the house until he was gone. I still think, occasionally, I can see him watching me mow the lawn out of the corner of my eye, though I hope not. That is not how I want him to spend his afterlife. But, I can’t help but think of how proud he would be of me for all the work I do around their old house, my mom’s house; he respected hard work.


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