My paternal Grandfather died September 26, 2010. During his time on earth, he had a pure hatred for red lights and stupid traffic that went deep down into the pit of his soul.
I share this hatred. I think it's genetic.
Fore warning: This blog may show you exactly how strange I may be. But I don't care. Its just my take on life.
Since my Grandpa O's death, I have noticed many things during my drive times. I hit red lights like it's my job. I constantly get stuck by a line of cars while trying to cross a highway. And people pull out in front of me like I am invisible.
While I haven't figured out a way to fix the third problem aside from t-boning the other car (That'll teach em.) I have in a strange way figured out a way to solve the other problems. Here comes the paranormal part. I find myself talking to my Grandpa like he actually has influence on traffic patterns and stop lights. And you know what. It works. Maybe it's luck, maybe it is timing, but I think it isn't. I think my Grandpa is my own little patron Saint of Traffic.
Not saying that my Grandpa watches out for me so that I don't hit any red lights, but if in cases where I am running late, a quick "Grandpa, please?!" usually does the trick for me. Same for when there is a line of cars.
I'm not crazy. I just have faith that my Grandpa is watching me from heaven, making sure that I don't go road rage postal on someone that doesn't deserve it.
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