A Grandfather

Grandparents are special people. Grandfathers are special people.

Mine gave wonderful hugs, always had an ear or three to listen to me babble with his quiet, serene nature and took me out for icecream. When I was little I would go to church with them every week - where he called me a wiggle worm becasue I could never sit still in the church pew we sat in together...and then held me in his lap while I leaned against his chest, feeling his heart beat as I calmed down and became a little less wiggly. He taught me how to keep my money organized while I was working at farmers markets, a system that is so ingrained in my mind that I'll never be able to do it any other way. He taught me how to make beautiful displays of fruits, and to always say hello and smile, no matter what. We went on roadtrips together; the cheese and/or chocolate factory (you can't do one without the other when they're down the road from each other and you've driven an hour to get to ONE) to the east coast - just the two of us. Where he showed me the farm where my father was born, where he owned a store, the church that they went to and so many of the other stories that went along with his life there. Where he taught me to love seafood, instead of hide from it. And our biggest trip - Africa. Where we saw where the oceans met, drove through the mountains and saw penguins playing in the ocean.

He always smiled his sweet smile, pulled a dog cookie out of his pocket and made friends with whatever dogs happened to be in the vacinity.

Through his gentle nature, I learned how to be patient, kind and loving. I could never begin to tell you how many people I have met over the years at the farmers markets who asked about him every time I saw them, because of the impression that he left on their lives. The little old ladies from his apartment building and men from the dairy he worked at, who talked so highly of him, who made me even more proud to be his granddaughter.

I learned from him..that sometimes letting your little brother win at a game of cards was okay, that he made the best scrambled eggs in the world, and that sometimes it was okay to cry.

We had a special bond, even if we were different in a lot of ways - and I’d like to believe that in a lot ways, in the way that we loved, shared and enjoyed life - we are alike. I believe that the best parts of him live on in all of the great things and people that he’s left behind, that he’s passed on to the people he loved over the last eight decades. All of the good that he has done in his life can never be forgotten because it lives in the people and places his life has touched.

It breaks my heart to say goodbye, to let go...to hold on to the memories that tug at my heart while moving forward...but I do so knowing that he did so many wonderful things, that he was such an amazing person, whom I love so very much...and I know that he would want me to...so I am.

It's a process, there will be good days along with the not so good days..but I just have to remember these words..the one I found quite a while ago..that just..fit...so perfectly.

You can shed tears that he is gone
or you can smile because he has lived

You can close your eyes and pray that he’ll come back,
or you can open your eyes and see all he’s left

Your heart can be empty because you can’t see him,
or you can be full of the love you shared

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.

You can remember him only that he is gone
or you can cherish his memory and let it live on

You can cry and close your mind
be empty and turn your back.

Or you can do what he’d want;
smile, open your eyes, love and go on.


♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Grampa Myron
July 1926 - March 2010
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥