Maybe I take that back slightly only because of the selfish/inappropriate things that occurred on Friday that turned into an even larger mess.

WTF.

When is this semester ending, the worst 3 months of my life

While I sincerely love the Gamma Eta Chapter of TriDelta here at UR, and would never leave it because of the true amazingness of our sisterhood, I would like to say that for the rest of my life, I will incredibly hate TriDelta as a national organization. I will no longer support it in any way because of the hypocricy and the dictatorial nature of how it is run. I will, however, fully support everything my chapter does but once I leave it, I would no longer like to consider myself a TriDelta. If I didn't enjoy my time with my sisters so far, I would have left the TriDelta name all together. Our chapter has soared this year beyond my expectations and just when we were simply trying to do good for others, we are stabbed in the back by people claiming to have an unselfish love with all its members.

This is fucking bull shit.

Poppy 3.11.1925 - 4.6.2008

I miss him a lot already. My dad gave a really good euology and told some great stories. He talked about how my grandfather was the American Dream. He was born to immigrant parents (youngest of 8) but felt such a strong love for his country that he dropped out of high school and enlisted in the army. His other brothers paid people off not to go and one just paid someone off so that he was only in places where he wasn't in battle. My grandfather's mother wouldn't eat on any holidays because she knew my pop was in horrible conditions with little to eat. He stormed Utah beach in Normandy on the Second Day, which was the day after D-Day. He fought in the Battle of the Bulge. Obviously from an Italian family, he had a strong belief in the Catholic faith. During the war, he served as an altar boy and went around with the priest after battles picking up body parts and blessing them. He often had to hide among the dead bodies in order to avoid getting caught. He did get captured once by the Germans and managed to escape. Throughout the whole thing, however, he carried his violin with him and played for the other soldiers. My sister has that violin now. When he got back from the war, he was shocked to see his parents. They gave birth to him in their 50's and he swore when he left for war that he would never see them again. He was so happy to see his mother he hugged her so tightly he accidentally broke one of her ribs. Shortly after, he went back to high school and met my grandmother. She helped pay his way through Temple University and he became the first person in his family to graduate from college. He decided not to work for the family business (AKA mafia ties and running illegal gambling). In 1950, he opened up his own business, our family real estate office which still functions as my family's and my uncles' families source of income. The Northeast Philadelphia community loved him so much, he was appointed president of the Philadelphia Board of Realtors and was awarded Real Estate Broker of the month once. At one point, the Republican Party in PA approached him and asked him to run for senate. He loved his family so much though that he didn't want to be traveling and away from them so he stuck to Real Estate. At their neighborhood Catholic church, he helped immigrant families settle in to their new lives. My dad said my grandfather not only was the American Dream, but he SOLD the American Dream. What is more shocking is that in 1953, my grandfather began donating money to a new organization in Philadelphia, United Cerebral Palsy. 35 years later, my brother would be born with Cerebral Palsy and my family would begin to donate money in his name for years to come. My grandfather even wanted all funeral donations to go directly to UCP because he was the biggest supporter of my brother learning to walk and overcoming his disability. They were best friends. My brother put in my grandfather's casket this framed poem that is called "I walk with Grandpa." I didn't know what to put in. I wrote him a letter since I couldn't say goodbye to him. I also put in a picture of us along with a lock of my hair because I had his hair, plus he was bald and we always used to talk about cutting mine off and making him a toupee. Most importantly, I put in one of my old Abington "A" patches because he came to all of my sports games he could. I will always remember him standing behind the batting cage when I pitched telling me how to improve my throws each time. That is, until the umpire would tell him he couldn't stand there and he had to go sit in the stands. My dad also talked about how frugal he was all the time and told hysterical stories of how my grandfather would always check the mail to see if the post office forgot to cancel a stamp. If they didn't, he would tear the stamp off and re use it. When my dad cleaned out his office last year, he found a pile of old used but not cancelled stamps in his drawer. Pop was definitely stingy on money but never on love. Everyone in the neighborhood used to call him Poppy, even the adults. We rode bikes and played hide and go seek non stop. He was like everyone's grandpop. It is weird to think he is gone. My grandparents lived within a mile of my house my whole life so they were a huge part of my life. My Pop taught me how to cook breakfast, taught me how to play gambling card games, took me on walks through the park, taught me how to boogy board at the shore, and bought me my first car. I wish I didn't leave for school in August so I could have spent more time with him before he got really sick. Maybe I should have gone home to say goodbye at the end. I hope he just knows what an amazing grandfather he was, definitely among the best and I will probably miss him for the rest of my life. So many of my memories growing up are wrapped up in my memory of him.