Grandfathers

I remember that I was about nine years old when my paternal grandfather passed away. His health was failing him, so it wasn't a shock to us. My dad went to the funeral, but the rest of my family didn't, only because the funeral was out of the way, in Canada. We all loved the man. I have some good, fond memories of him.

This afternoon, my mother called me to tell me that her father—my other grandfather—had passed away today. His health had also been poor, especially in recent years. We all knew his pain and troubles would soon end. He also lived far away for most of my life, so I wouldn't say I was very close with him, but I loved him.

That said, I didn't realize that it would take me about 15 minutes of silent sobbing after I heard the news for me to truly focus and get back to work. I suddenly remembered the love that man had given me all my life.

Changes are sometimes hard for me, but at least I understand why they happen. All I wish to say now is this: Gramps, thank you. Thank you for giving me and my brother a fencing lesson. Thank you for giving me a tie, a briefcase, and a glass chess set, tangible reminders of your life. Thank you for your love of music. Thank you, especially, for telling me multiple times how you expect great things from me. Thank you, so very much.

I am grateful for my grandfathers. My family means more to me than I can adequately say, and I look forward to seeing some of my extended family again as I pay my respects at the funeral.