Stace

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I am not referring to myself, but Robert, Bob, Stace, or better known to me as Grandpa Stacey. Just the other day while folding clothes (notice the J.Crew theme) I tucked down the arms of a soft navy blue sweater. Immediately a flow of memories from childhood overcame me. Memories of sitting on Grandfather's lap, listening to stories about Australia, boats, horses, and farms, touching his soft hands, and looking at his silver watch. I remember so vividly hearing Reds games in the background and his smell, a combination of cologne and gin, spices and aromas still on his navy sweater from something very Julia Child-esque cooking in their small kitchen. It saddens me that I didn't know him for long enough. He will never know me as an adult, know Joseph, our children, or know how close mom and I are. But I consider myself happy to remember little things about him. I'm sure we would get along well and have some pretty amazing conversations.

Currently I regret to say I do not have any photos of my Grandfather Stacey. However, I have a large project of scanning and uploading photos to Flickr of Meyer, McCoy, Scott, and Stacey pics from yesteryear. I'll keep you posted when this happens.

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