Abstract
I never really knew my Grampa Bly. He died when I was 2 years old. I never really felt a connection to him, until a few years after my mother died, until I could not ask questions about him or the early years of her family. Now I realize that we have lot in common. Could my passion for health promotion, service, and travel have come from him? What I do know comes from diaries, newspaper clippings, and the rambling stories of my uncle who suffered from severe dementia. What I do not know fills my head. What questions would I ask if I could? Why did I wait?
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