A grandfather

After hearing that my grandfather died, my mind has been flooded with memories. I first remember him driving out to Utah to help us make the move back to Alabama. I thought he was different than the family I knew there, he wore years of experience on his face & had eyes that swallowed me. I instantly wanted to know him more. As a child I can remember sitting next to him at church. Being too young to read but loving music with my whole soul, he would quietly whisper the next phrase of the hymn so I could sing my little heart out. I remember staring at him as he poured salt on his watermelon and thinking "this guy is so weird!" I think of him sitting in the den on his recliner with his secret stash of tootsie pops. He ate all of them but the brown ones, so of course I hated the brown ones too. 

As I grew older and life took us both on journeys we didn't expect, we always had a mutual respect for each other. I went to him when I had spiritual questions, and He would pull out his huge brown leather bound scriptures and help me find answers to things I struggled with. When Sean and I first started our little family and had barely anything to get by, he bought us a washer & dryer & a bed, and he told me over and over how special my son was. When he found his second love, I helped make his wedding cake and took pictures for their wedding. Life took us in places that we hadn't expected, but that didn't dampen our desire to support one another. 

As he got older, Alzheimer's stole his memory. The last few times I saw him, he asked me who my children were as he struggled to connect the dots through time.  I can't imagine how lonely it must have been to live a life robbed of memories and connections. I pray that he's happy now, and that future generations can remember the good things he chose to do in this life. "Remember there is no such thing as a small act of kindness. Every act creates a ripple with no logical end" -Scott Adams