And Death hits again

Yes, I am experiencing yet another death in my life. My neighbor, George, who was like a grandfather to me has passed away. So many of my childhood memories involve George, and this is almost as important as losing my grandma last year. I think that I have reacted to every death in the past year and a half differently, this time I threw myself into listening to music, when my grandma died my friends surrounded me and had me watch a movie.
What to say about George? He was such an interesting person, definately a southern white man, and someone who was always watching out for me and the rest of the kids in the neighborhood. I remember his chicken coop, and Amber (our shepherd) stealing chickens, I remember riding on his tractor and steering, watching him dig his ponds, trying to teach me to shoot a gun, giving me a puff of a cigarette at age 5 (which was pretty much the best way to keep me from smoking), hanging out in his shop, and all his woodwork. That man was there for everything, my first birthday, helping my mom build things, always a gardener, and watching out for the neighborhood. He followed a vagrant, was there when Shawn fell over his handlebars and knocked out his two front teeth. Eggs, we would always go to his shop and raid his chicken eggs. He was always working on something and mom and I would frequently watch, just for the heck of it. Walking through his shop was like walking into a store where everything was made or fixed by hand. A good ol' boy, he would stop me on my way to the bus stop at 6am and tell me stories about his childhood and riding horses. The smell of his house was unique, and so familiar and cozy. Running over one of his weeping willows with the golf cart- breaking the golf cart but not reall hurting the tree. Chasing horses in his field. Deedee his mean pitbull.
Bottom line? I am going to miss this person, he was probably the best example of a grandfather that has been present throughout my life.
Goodbye George.