On days like this, I realy−realy−realy don’t like the fact that I’m on vacation… 

When all the fuss regarding work is behind me, when I don’t think about my master thesis (and I certainly won’t think about that on my vacation), my mind does the strangest thing − it wonders off… 
Not to a nice, happy place (like planning a road trip through Europe that will begin in two days) but to a strange place… sad place… 
Why it does that – bets me. But it’s been our routine for years now…

On January the 5th, it will be 12 years since my granddad passed away. 12 years. It seems like yesterday. And it hurts like yesterday… He wasn’t “just a granddad” to me – he was my mentor, my best friend, my role model… 
He taught me everything I know (from building fences to mowing grass), he listened patiently to my “boys” problems (with a lump in his throat) and he is (mostly) responsible for me being me…

When I went to see my grandma last week, I found his harmonica. I have no idea who gave it to him but he played it all the time cause he loved to play. To get one thing straight, he wasn’t good at it, but he wasn’t a quitter. 
And that is one more thing he taught me – never give up on the things you love…

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