I don’t really remember my grandfathers. My mother’s father passed away when my older brother was just a newborn. My father’s father passed away when I was 5. I remember a few things about him. Mostly his pipe tobacco. I remember going to their house for the day and seeing that he wasn’t in his chair in front of the television, which is where I remember him always being. That night Mom brought us home and I saw the broken radio and my dad on the couch consumed with both grief and anger. Vo-voh was gone.

I was fortunate though. I did have a grandfather figure my entire life. That was Sam. Sam was in love with my grandmother and she turned down his every proposal. They were partners all my life and boy did they bicker. It was rather comical, but you knew they loved each other. He treated me like I was his real granddaughter. He had this enormous garden. I always dreamed of some day having a garden just like it. Hopefully I will. Dementia took Sam from many years ago, but I’m glad he got to meet my Logan before it really set in. I still remember his big smile when I last brought Logan for a visit. Pure Joy. That is how I like to remember him.

I gained another grandfather when I met my husband. I sometimes would consider him my ally. He had a way of putting his grandson in his place. Grandpa Jim. Oh how I miss Grandpa Jim (even though he could be a little flirt – much like his grandson). I have trouble now walking into the local coffee shop where we used to live. I would go in there every weekend and he would be at the table with his buddies, “There’s my beautiful” with his arms spread wide. And he really gave great hugs…another thing his grandson inherited. I get a little teary thinking about Grandpa Jim. “There you are. When you’re not around he’s a miserable prick” (referring to my then boyfriend). I miss him a lot and it saddens me that he didn’t get to meet my boys…although sometimes I think he’s still around.

So to all of my grandfathers…I love you and miss you.