My grandfather is slipping away, a little more each day. I setup some chairs in the garage today, and invited him to sit outside with me. I put on big band music and sat with him for some time. He asked me if I knew his son Don, that he was in a band. I explained he was my father, and that I am his grandson.
He laughed, and said "Really?", a big smile on his face.
Grandpa said "Wait here a moment, I want to show you something."
He slowly got up from the chair and made his way into the house, returning shortly after with a small framed picture in his hand.
"Have I ever shown you this picture before?"
He held the picture up to me, it was a photo of him and my grandmother at the beach in Coney Island, New York. Taken some time in the 30's. The two of them in bathing suits, playing in the surf.
"Yes, I've seen that picture, dont you remember? I was the one who took the picture from your wallet and enlarged it for that picture frame?"
"You Did, " he said in disbelief.
Where do the memories go? I realize now that our pasts mean so little, that in the end, it is all just time gone by. It makes me realize how important today, and only in this moment, is anything really of the utmost importance.
Grandmother arrived on the driveway and we were soon dispatched as she made lunch for my grandfather, and after disappeared into their room for an afternoon nap. So greatful am I for the short time I am able to spend with the both of them, as I suspect upon my next visit, nothing will ever be the same.
Florida is my home, I've come to realize, its time to move back home. I don't know how I'll get here yet, but I know it will be soon. There are things in my life in Texas that have come drastically unraveled. It is only through faith that I am able to carry myself through each day. I moved to Texas in order to be closer to my children, but I realize now that a six hour drive from them is just as far as a four hour trip on a jet. I've only seen them two times since moving to Texas, both for a very brief time. It's time to go home and start living my life again, and stop chasing the dreams of my past.
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Friday, November 23, 2012
Thanksgiving 2012
Yesterday, Thanksgiving 1012 and I had so much to be grateful for. I spent the day with my grandparents, and was able to celebrate the occasion at a restaurant called Nichole's in Lake Worth Florida.
I walked my grandfather from the parking lot, to the front of the restaurant. We were greeted at the front door by the owner.
"Sir, what name is your party under?" said Nichole. I turned to my grandfather, "What is Rosie's last name grandpa?," I asked. "Rosie, I dont know a Rosie," he responded. "Papa, you have known here for at least 60 years, you dont know her last name?" "What is my last name," I asked. He didn't know. It was then I realized, I was really loosing my grandfather, one drop at a time.
In attendance, Grandma, Grandpa, Aunt Martha, Sheila, Bernice, Rosie and a friend of the cousins. It was great being 45 years younger than anyone at the table. It was not a traditional family dinner, Nichole's had a blue plate 16.95 dinner and everything needed salt. We had a big long table for eight but for some reason Rosie insisted we move tables. We were reseated at a round table next to the wall, one much too small for our group. We were elbow to elbow, good that none of us were left handed.
The banter around the table was politics. My Florida family are staunch democrats, so in part the conversation was celebration of President Obama's victory over Governor Romney. I imagine part of my gratitude is they have all survived another years so that I might celebrate with them. That they lived through out the year without killing each other is a small miracle.
In the name of community I drove everyone home that night. I returned home and reflected on the evening. I gave thanks to the Lord for the day. I gave thanks for my life. I gave thanks for my family and the chance to see them one more time.
I walked my grandfather from the parking lot, to the front of the restaurant. We were greeted at the front door by the owner.
"Sir, what name is your party under?" said Nichole. I turned to my grandfather, "What is Rosie's last name grandpa?," I asked. "Rosie, I dont know a Rosie," he responded. "Papa, you have known here for at least 60 years, you dont know her last name?" "What is my last name," I asked. He didn't know. It was then I realized, I was really loosing my grandfather, one drop at a time.
In attendance, Grandma, Grandpa, Aunt Martha, Sheila, Bernice, Rosie and a friend of the cousins. It was great being 45 years younger than anyone at the table. It was not a traditional family dinner, Nichole's had a blue plate 16.95 dinner and everything needed salt. We had a big long table for eight but for some reason Rosie insisted we move tables. We were reseated at a round table next to the wall, one much too small for our group. We were elbow to elbow, good that none of us were left handed.
The banter around the table was politics. My Florida family are staunch democrats, so in part the conversation was celebration of President Obama's victory over Governor Romney. I imagine part of my gratitude is they have all survived another years so that I might celebrate with them. That they lived through out the year without killing each other is a small miracle.
In the name of community I drove everyone home that night. I returned home and reflected on the evening. I gave thanks to the Lord for the day. I gave thanks for my life. I gave thanks for my family and the chance to see them one more time.
Blogging Again
Its been a long time since I last wrote anything in my blog. There have been many who have encouraged me to start blogging again, so here goes. Consider this entry a page break between the past and the future.
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