December 19, 1973
31 years ago today in Wethersfield, Connecticut, my grandfather died at the age of 80, from 3rd degree burns over 75 percent of his body.
It was during one week of a very bad ice storm, with no power or heat, that we kept our fireplace going in an effort to keep warm. When the power finally came back on, Bumpy George, as he was known, cleaned out our fireplace and placed the ashes in a plastic trash can lined with a trash bag. Little did he know some of the ashes were still hot. The trash can exploded in his face after he placed the lid on it.
I will never forget the smell of burning flesh, or the sight of a torched Christmas tree and burned gifts.
Nor will I forget my Bumpy, who would sing me to sleep as a child to the tune of "Goodnight Sweetheart".
RIP Bumps. I miss you every single day of my life and cry whenever I hear "our" song.
Love,
Donna
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