My Grandfather’s Gift Of Love

Cherubic looking, my grandfather had a round face that was quick to reveal his kindness and sense of empathy. He was just as fast to express humor, which he frequently did. His tummy shook a bit when he laughed… like Santa Claus. He was a little, round Irish man that doted on me when I was deeply in need of this level of nurturing.

It’s not a bad story, as stories go. I was simply born to a couple of kids. My mother and father were naive country folk, and very young. I think that children back then, especially at those tender ages, were even younger than their years, as compared to today’s off-spring. The world was also naive then, compared to now. In any case, when I was an infant they left me with my grandfather to raise, due to his insistence.

One of the most powerful handclasps is that of a new grandbaby around the finger of a grandfather ~ Joy Hargrove

He passed away when I was 23 years old, and he was only 62. Granddaddy didn’t want to go, and I had experienced so little loss in life at that age that, even as I watched him slowly slip away, I wasn’t quite understanding the process. I realize now that I simply couldn’t imagine my life without him. My grandfather and I were togetherness personified. I was his deity and he was mine.

How I miss that dear sweet face, even after all these many decades! Life, for me, has never been as full as it was when he was alive. My biggest fan by far, and all time greatest cheerleader, left me with a rare and incredible legacy of love. I have become even more grateful to him with the passage of time.

Although there is no way to replace such a deep and vast level of love, I have the memories of being cherished infinitely. Regardless of the fact that I didn’t fully comprehend what I had lost on that dreadful July day, as he said his last goodbye to me, I am who I am because of his love.

Sometimes he comes to visit. Most recently, on a warm summer’s day, I had my window open where I sit to work at a round table.  I had just finished working with a client, when I smelled cherry flavored pipe tobacco, which he often smoked in one of his long, curved stem pipes. Of course, I thought of him immediately.  When I looked up there was a squirrel on the sill of the open window looking at me, and I heard this message: “I have been sent by your grandfather to let you know he is always with you.  He never really left. The cherry flavored pipe tobacco is his way of catching your attention”.

More and more, when I single out the person out who inspired me most, I go back to my grandfather ~ James Earl Jones

Then, as I felt the rosy glow of his love that felt so familiar, the tears began to flow. I realized the tears are a gift, too – an enduring reminder – and I will welcome and cherish the tears, the squirrel and other ways he has chosen to visit for as long as they continue. These exquisite gifts are sacred and the tears are jewels of love. I thank them for their holiness – for indeed they are exquisite and honored.

As every year goes by, I realize more and more the rare depth of his gift of care for me. Although I know I loved him deeply in return, it was he who saved me, and I remember and weep often for our loss of each other, to this day. I will always remember my gratitude to him for those best ever 23 years of my life, even as I grieve. Yes, he lost his deity, and I lost mine, but only on this physical plane. In the love of our hearts, we are together still and always will be.