I feel like everyone has someone who has really inspired them, and shaped their life in some way. That person, to me, is my grandfather. It was his birthday last week; he turned 90.

My grandfather is the kind of person where every time I see him, all I can imagine is that if I am half the person he is when I am 90, I will have lived a good life. My grandfather has never raised his voice at me in my entire life, and when I was younger, we spent a lot of time together. In fact, he was pretty much my primary caretaker for a good chunk of the day when I was about 5. Now, this in itself is amazing, because anyone who can spend hours with a five year old and not yell is a saint to begin with, but that’s only the tip of the iceberg.

My grandfather served in the South Pacific in WWII, getting the Purple Heart medal not once, but twice.  To serve in the military, he had to leave high school without graduating, but he earned his high school diploma just over four years ago, at the age of 85, proving that it’s never too old to get an education. He worked as a farmer after leaving the army, and continued to help out on our farm long after he had officially retired.

All of that is amazing, but it’s how active he still is, now that he is definitely old enough to think it’s time to slow down. At 90, he still lives alone, and drives his own car. He delivered Meals on Wheels (a food delivery service for the elderly who can’t leave home); even though he was older than many of the people he delivers to. He only stopped last winter because he had a heart attack and his doctor told him to take it a little slower. He has a busier social life than I do, playing cards, going to meetings at the Knights of Columbus, the Moose Club, and polka dancing at the senior’s centre. It’s hard to catch him at home because he’s always on the go. He even has a girlfriend. He’s a man of God, deeply religious on a level that I only wish I could understand, not so much out of a desire to be religious so much as having that much faith is awe-inspiring. He doesn’t own a TV or a radio. He has a computer, for which he pays for 5 hours of dial-up internet a month. He says that’s more than he needs to check his email. He reads voraciously, rather than gaining his entertainment from technology. And he bakes the best oatmeal cookies I’ve ever had.

He gives back to the community, whether it’s helping other seniors or helping out at his church. But he’s also 90. He’s not going to be around forever. I seriously dread the day that he’s gone, not only because I will have personally lost him, but because the community itself will be diminished by his leaving. If I could be like anyone, it would be like him. If only we all could lead such a brilliant life.