Remembering Gramp...

October 1993

Everyone should have had the chance to know my Grandpa. He was a big man, not just in stature, but in spirit. He stood at over 6 feet tall but his presence was of quiet strength. He was a man of few words. A hard worker, at home with his hands in the dirt. As strong in faith as he was in body. A soft spot for his wife--my Grandma--"his sweetheart" he would call her. This is the man I choose to remember. The memories that warm my heart on this day are of the man from my childhood, the way he would want to be remembered. The man I want to believe he was restored to as he crossed through those pearly gates to once again take his sweetheart's hand in his own. I can't believe it's been 2 years today since he slipped from this world's tentative grasp & claimed the rich reward his life here had earned him. He was a good man...no, a GREAT man & I miss him daily. I wish I had taken the time more often to thank him for all that he did for me...but as a man of few words, I like to believe that he knew what I was too young & selfish to articulate. And though he doesn't know it, there is another man in my life, not as large in physical presence as my Gramp, but a source of quiet strength none the less...also a man of few words but whose actions speak volumes...a man with a good heart, a warm smile, a gentle touch. He can't replace my Gramp, no one ever could, but he fills a void in my soul. Much like I didn't thank my Grandpa for all he did for me, I don't know how to thank this man either, although the inability to articulate my gratitude now comes not from youthful selfishness so much as from not having the words to express how thankful I truly am to have him in my life. Like my Grandpa though, I think he knows & understands. Men of few words, truly good men like these...they know what we fail to say...but our worlds are so much better for having them there & I'm glad they somehow know it.