Dear Grandpa,
This year has been a year of big moments. There have been many times when I’ve wanted to get in the car, drive to your house, and pretend I was once again a kid with no cares in the world.
I’ve driven by the house more than a few times. It has changed. It’s a quiet reminder that you can never truly go back. That realization has helped me stay rooted in the present, even when life feels heavy.
One of those heavy moments came on a Wednesday afternoon in September. One of our team members—a guy you would’ve absolutely loved—faced life’s most unthinkable loss with the sudden passing of his daughter. It was the kind of moment that brought all of us to our knees.
Another came about six weeks later, in Düsseldorf, at the 2025 K Show. I was sitting with this same team member over a drink, talking about life, grief, and pain. Somewhere in that conversation, my thoughts turned to you.
Your leadership modeled caring for people first. You went to the funerals. You showed up in the grief. I hope—and pray—that I am following your example well. All I can say for sure is that my heart still grieves for my friend as I type these words.
The next day, I had some time alone while our team headed into meetings. As an introvert, I value those quiet moments to get my bearings. Again, my thoughts turned to you. What would you think of the technology in 2025? What counsel would you give us about our next move? As I walked the halls of the show, I found real comfort imagining your perspective.
Later this year, I was elected as an Officer of the Plastics Industry Association. As we welcomed the Society of Plastics Engineers into the Association, my thoughts once again turned to you. I learned that you served as Chairman of SPI (now Plastics) for the 1973–74 term. I also learned that SPE once cited you for allowing a local competitor—temporarily put out of business by a fire—to use an unused section of our plant.
Not only am I still trying to follow in your footsteps, but your generosity is still bearing fruit in 2026. We recently hired a Director of Manufacturing who you once helped at Elgin Community College. During his interview, he mentioned that SPE citation was one of the reasons he wanted to work with us.
Your leadership is still helping us recruit—nineteen years after you left this planet.
I aspire to that.
If I’ve learned anything this year, it’s that life keeps moving forward. A few days before Christmas, I took advantage of a sunny December afternoon and drove out to the Max McGraw Wildlife Foundation. Sarah and the kids had gone ahead to Ohio, and I stayed back for a retirement party at work. For the first time in a while, I had space for solitude.
McGraw is a special place to me. Its ponds, streams, and wildlife connect me to God’s creation. It’s where I went to be alone with Him.
That afternoon, I found myself praising God for my life. Not only for forgiveness through Jesus, but for an abundant life. Things are not perfect. This year has been hard in many ways. But in that moment, I was reminded that I am still here because of His goodness.
More than that, I have children who are growing up and a wife I am still madly in love with. Sarah is still incredibly beautiful—inside and out. This June 30th will mark our 19th wedding anniversary, and what would have been yours and Grandma’s 84th. Grandma once told me she was passing the baton to us in 2007. I hope we have lived up to it.
Even as life moves forward, I don’t forget you—nor do I forget my other three grandparents. The gift you all gave me is one of the greatest treasures of my life. Add in my parents’ marriage, along with Sarah’s parents’ and grandparents’ legacies, and we are deeply blessed.
As I close, know that I still walk the floor wondering what you would be thinking. There is something comforting about hearing the presses run and seeing the people at work.
In fact, my year ended the way I imagine you would want it to end—gathered in our lunchroom, celebrating Peter’s 37 years with the company.
“I have always felt this place is my second family,” he said.
As I drove to the airport to rejoin Sarah and the kids in Ohio, I found myself choking up over that sentence. Life is full of highs and lows, as this year reminded us. You built a culture that put people first, and we have worked hard to continue that legacy.
I hope—and pray—that we are living up to it.
I miss you.
Alex

