You know, my grandpa had this big neon sign he always had in the family room. It said "GO BROWNS" on it in big letters and had that brown helmet. I think he brought it home from one of his buddies at the bar or something, couldn't say for sure.
My grandma thought it looked tacky, I remember she'd always say, "you can turn that thing on after I go to bed." That was the compromise.
[laughing]
The night he passed away, I was staying the night. My grandma woke me up in the middle of the night and said a neighbor was coming by to watch me, that Grandpa had passed on. They'd already taken him away. And in the middle of everybody runnin' around, there were a few minutes there where I was just there by myself in the family room, and that sign was the only thing on. And it just softly lit up the room in this beautiful sort of orange-y brown.
I was eight years old then, and I remember just kinda standing there and looking at the light, and the room. And you know what I thought?
I remember thinking how strange it was that the light was still on. I thought that, well, if he was gone, then the light he switched on should've turned off. That as soon as he went, everything should go with him.
But there it was, though. Just glowing.
