I’ve heard many people talk about their grandparents especially their grandfathers. I’ve often wondered how it would be to have one as my father’s father died when he was just four years of age. Though my mother’s father is still alive she has no relationship with him (unfortunately) and the 1st time I even knew he existed was when I met him accidentally at a funeral. From that day to this I’ve yet to see him again probably couldn’t point him out if my life depended on it…sad but true.
I’m not dismayed that I haven’t seen him, nor do I lose any sleep. I often wonder if my mother does and how she feels, she often pretends not to care (my opinion). As I checked my email a genealogy service I subscribe to let me know my absentee grandfather turned 82 yesterday. It made me stop and think about how much of an accomplishment it is and for a split second I considered getting in touch with him just so that I could say ‘Happy Birthday’ from your stranger of a granddaughter. That’s right for a wrong reason and I’m feeling truly indifferent about it…alas I’m not even sure what that last sentence means to me anymore (two seconds later).
The Christian thing to do would be to just give him a call see how he is and remind him of who I am. Perhaps I will… I can recall being younger wishing I too had a grandfather I grew up watching them on television and being overtly kind to any old guy with grey or white hair in retrospect I guess I’ve adopted many grandfathers. I listened to little wisdoms shared, and memories told. What would it have been like to be able to visit a Papa, or abuello, or a grandpa? When my daughter sees my father she lights up with excitement…I would have loved that.
Just my random thoughts…