Just got a phone call from my mother, her father passed away due to heart failure. He'd been in and out of the hospital for heart related problems and diabetes. Has had a few surgeries for his heart, and has generally just been stubborn, refusing to change, but I guess he died happy, so that makes me feel better, but he was a stubborn old man. He started off his life as a painter, a wonderful artist. My uncles and aunts have a few of his paintings and they're phenominal. There's one hanging in his living room that one day I'd like to have. He was passionate, stubborn, and pretty funny. Until one day he was hit by a streetcar while crossing the road, he couldn't paint the same after that and became an accountant. He's from Cleveland, always has been, always will be, and knew just about everyone there. Did most of their taxes, was a religious man (the root of my Catholocism) and frankly, was just an all around great guy. He was a manly man, refused to hug other men, just a firm handshake and a kick in the ass. Stubborn old man. He was diabetic too. Ten years ago his doctors told him to stop drinking. Ten years ago he refused his doctor's warnings and decided not to change his lifestyle. As he put it, he'd lived a long enough life, accomplished enough, and he wasn't going to change for anything. For ten more years he kept on drinking 2-3 fine scotches a day. Ten years and his circulation in his legs decreased. His legs were turning purple and his doctors threatened to start amputating his toes. Ten years of threats like that and he still refused to stop drinking. He said he'd much rather lose his toes than his scotch, and that he wanted his toes back after they were cut off so he could frame him in his living room. Stubborn old man. He was an avid coin collector, something he got me started on years ago, a hobby that I let fade in the face of music. He was a stubborn old man, something that definately passed down to me. I always looked up to that stubborn old man, but I guess I'm just a stubborn young man.