I mourn for you,
wish I had more memories with you,
things I didn’t ask,
things I didn’t say….
memories of you are vague.
You lived life your way,
as rebel, outsider,
but a part of me.
My family knows from whom they came.
The apple tree you planted when I was born
…that tree Is grown and bears fruit.
I knew my grandfather was a "big deal" when I went to the Ann Arbor State Theater. People, young and old, gathered, eager to watch his movies and shake his hand. I arrived with my brand new puppy MoMo. I was told "Oh no, you cannot be seated in the theater with a puppy. When I was identified as George Manupelli’s granddaughter, I was seated right away. That’s when I knew my grandfather was "THE MAN". There I was with my puppy enjoying his films in a beautiful theatre surrounded by people that idolized my grandfather.
I remember being so terrified one day when he came for a visit. I was living in middle school at the time, late 80's, early 90's, a time when explicit lyrics were becoming the "thing". I wrote some explicit lyrics and somehow Grandpa George read them. He read the inappropriate document in its entirety and was amused. I loved him even more.
I remember another time when he left some chocolates. He may have told me they were for my Mom, and it’s possible I didn't pay attention but when I ate them they were filled with liquor! Mmmm, I loved them!
I also loved my grandfather's Boston accent.
I love you Grandpa George.