A soldier, a poet, and a genius. These three carved the paths that their children's ideas must be shaped by. A soldier, through war and horror, through pain a suffering through struggle and ****** his path was one of humor, and this path showed that no matter what ailment it was laughter could heal it. A poet, running miles and miles more than the great messenger who ran the original marathon could ever run so much distance that he is able to see life through a different perspective, his path is one of love and adventure, always surprising. A genius, the last of the three greats now lies broken, a mind so brilliant it knows how to accept his inevitable demise, his path is one of honesty, chasing the wind, and acceptance, he leaves behind all of his great life's work for his child. And his child's ideas. For he knows, though it is the end of his genius, it's only the spark of his child's.
This is in memory of my two deceased grandfathers and my grandfather who is currently dying of advanced pancreatic cancer. I loved them all. And they were all great men.