I told you a little while ago that my dear grandfather passed away on April 30.
He had a wonderful life, and we had a great time celebrating him and our family with my grandmother a few weeks ago.
My grandfather died last Tuesday.
His name was Tebo. Thomas, really, Tom to my grandmother, but Tebo to us.
The stories on why this is are varying. I like to think that I named him, because I’m the oldest grandchild, but in reality I think that people called him T-boy growing up/in college and it kind of stuck/evolved into Tebo.
Not T-bo, T-bow, or Tebow, for the record. Or T-bone. This was a source of great confusion for people throughout his whole life.