A year ago today, my grandfather died. He was the father of my father and the only grandfather I really knew (my mom's dad died before I was old enough to remember anything). But none of us could help but smile a bit at the fact that he died on April Fools Day because anyone who knew him would know that he was a prankster and a joker. They could also tell that he loved his family, his God, and his truck. When his Alzheimer's had progressed to the extent that my grandmother and my dad believed it unsafe for him to be driving it, he refused to let it go. Sure, by that point, it only had the purpose of taking him to the mall and back (which was right down the street), but he didn't want to give up the keys to that 2000, red, Chevy truck. He didn't actually hand over the keys till he'd lost half the front bumper by running into a pole. That truck is now one of my most valued possessions. It's pretty much the biggest piece of himself that he could have handed down to me (although it's actually Jeremy's and mine, but Jeremy can't drive yet). Sure, it's a little banged up and used and outdated, but it gets me from one place to the next and, although it may sound weird, I feel safe in that truck. The "Service Engine Soon" light came on in that truck as I pulled into church today. There's no telling what it is or why it came on, but I wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't there tomorrow and I was just getting a little extra April Fool's joke.