Eulogy For A Father's Father

You are never one to be reckoned with, not even as a child. In fact, your first memory of ever getting into any trouble ran back to your third grade year in school. Nine years old and already so full of life - and a strong sense of justice. Out of the corner of your eye in the hallway, a group of boys were laughing and talking among themselves when you heard your sister's name. To this day, you can't remember exactly what it was that the boy had muttered, but what you do remember is the feeling of satisfaction when your tiny fist met his face - and the lecture you received from the principal and the boy's father.

Of course, your parents weren't all too bothered. They'd taught you to stand up for yourself no matter the consequences, and you wouldn't forget that for a minute. That wasn't the first lesson they'd taught you, but it was the one you most carried with you. Other things seemed less important - making your presence and your strength known was your first priority time and time again.
Though, never was that more apparent than when he and your mother divorced, and you and your half-sister were left to choose between two parents. As you’d always been a bit of a daddy’s girl, you choose to establish a homestead with him at thirteen years in old in a penthouse apartment. It had always been obvious to you that he didn't have a clue of what to do with you, but he tried enough (and paid his way enough) for it to never really make you resent