Back in 1999, my now deceased grandfather gave me the honor of being the inspiration for one of his books. The title, "The Third Season." I didn't know it then but it would become one of the most cherished objects I own. I guess that is one of the conflicts of childhood. Innocence, spunk; the art of being carefree, loving without condition, simple trust. Yet...everything is taken for granted. It hurts me to grow and realize it too late...I guess that is one of the many lessons of getting older.
I think of my grandfather often and miss him more than I could convey with words. I wish very much that he could have met my husband; could have been at our wedding. I miss our daily emails and visits. Seeing the smile on his face when he told the stories of me being a toddler and saying, "big truck, papa" every time a semi passed and the fact that he would start snapping his fingers and say, "shake ya diaper" and I would start dancing. The way he smelt of winterfresh gum when I gave him a hug (he always kept a pack in his shirt pocket from which I would sneak a piece.) The person from which I got my love of Coke-a-Cola...
Thinking further back, I miss sitting beside him on their porch at night, rocking, listening to the whippoorwills, waiting for him to tell me a story until it was well past my bedtime...
It is so hard when memories bring happiness and pain. Smiles and tears. But, I guess I can only remember and move forward. Pass on these things to my children and remain forever changed by that 'Old Man.' Far to many memories to express in a simple blog. Far to many emotions to bring to the surface. So, I will simply make this his dedication...
I love you, Poppy. Thank You for doing more for me than you ever knew.
I think of my grandfather often and miss him more than I could convey with words. I wish very much that he could have met my husband; could have been at our wedding. I miss our daily emails and visits. Seeing the smile on his face when he told the stories of me being a toddler and saying, "big truck, papa" every time a semi passed and the fact that he would start snapping his fingers and say, "shake ya diaper" and I would start dancing. The way he smelt of winterfresh gum when I gave him a hug (he always kept a pack in his shirt pocket from which I would sneak a piece.) The person from which I got my love of Coke-a-Cola...
Thinking further back, I miss sitting beside him on their porch at night, rocking, listening to the whippoorwills, waiting for him to tell me a story until it was well past my bedtime...
It is so hard when memories bring happiness and pain. Smiles and tears. But, I guess I can only remember and move forward. Pass on these things to my children and remain forever changed by that 'Old Man.' Far to many memories to express in a simple blog. Far to many emotions to bring to the surface. So, I will simply make this his dedication...
"For the five-year-olds
They bounce into each new dawn
With a brilliant insight and a new
Wisdom, shattering the prim and
Exhaustive philosophy of the ages."
- Jack P. Jones
from The Third Season
I love you, Poppy. Thank You for doing more for me than you ever knew.
You have helped shape the better parts of me and I will always be 'poppy's little dummy.'
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