My Dearest Boom-pa

I hope this finds you well.  From what I've read, you've been extra tired lately, and to be honest, I can't blame you.  You've been alive and well for a pretty long time now, I guess you'd need a little extra rest right about now.

But I want you to know, you are loved.

You and Granny haven't been able to come to FL for a while now, and now I realize how much I took that time for granted.  A young 20 something girl doesn't need her grandparents checking in, but an almost 40 yr old with young boys of her own sure wishes her Granny and Boom-pa were nearby.  Heck, I remember when Granny was 45 yrs old.  I can't imagine being a grandparent at that age.

I remember spending the night at your house, dressed in an 'angel' shirt. That would be a Boom-pa t-shirt, so big on an itty bitty girl that the sleeves would drape and hang like the wings of an angel.  And while wearing that shirt, I would crawl into bed between you and Granny and marvel at the light she had on her side of the bed, allowing her to read.  But you were sleeping!  What an amazing arrangement...together, but different.  At that time, so hard to fathom.

When you would come to visit us, it was like a cloud of peace settled over our household.  I'm sure you know there was a bit of stress, to say the least, but when Granny and Boom-pa were coming, everything was set aside.  Now I suspect maybe it wasn't, but from a child's eye, it was a holiday.  Rusty and I would go out and climb the rusted horse's gate in order to get the first glimpse of your car.  Then we'd scramble down and go running into the house shouting "They're HERE!  They're HERE!"  Nothing could go wrong.  Granny and Boom-pa were HERE and that's all that mattered.  An umbrella of happiness and contentment settled over us.  It was like a breath of clean, fresh air.

I remember one time, a few of us (Rusty, Mindy and myself, maybe?) were staying over and you and Granny went off to church on a Wednesday evening.  We balked at the idea, claiming religious differences (although I'm sure it was more to do with the fact that we were just tired of going to church period) and as a result you were taking us to see Dave and Cindy for the evening.  However, we had left certain messages on the hallway chalkboard.  Which we had to point out to you, because you didn't see them.  And as a result, you and Granny told us how being up front and honest could be to our benefit.  If we want something, we should just ask you.  So, Rusty and I decided to test you by asking for a camera.  Which taught us another lesson...the answer won't always be 'Yes'.

I mostly remember being on your shoulders.  I know it was exhilarating, yet frightening.  I'd clasp my hands around your head, afraid I'd tip backward and fall off.  But you would calmly tell me that you couldn't see if I held you like that, take my hands off your eyes and hold them, and we'd have the best time while I was on top of the world.

I remember your garden.  I remember sliding down your back hill.  I remember Uncle Joe with a canoe in the river down there.  I remember being up a tree and thinking "It won't hurt TOO bad if I jump down!" and your telling me that it probably would.  I remember the chestnut trees in the back yard and the swingset I fell off of, getting chestnut burs in my knees.  I know Granny helped pull them out.  I remember flying over your head as you flipped us through the air and somehow, miraculously, we always landed on our feet.

I remember your hands and the piece of shrapnel I always played with.

I remember your grace and dignity and strength.  I remember your love, forgiveness and compassion.  I think of you as the best and greatest man I have ever known, or could know, as well as the best person I could strive to be.  And I also know that you would say "Beth, you should strive to be Christ-like".  But, Boom-pa, you are the best example of Christ-like that I have ever seen.  And I am so blessed and honored that you are my grandfather.  And I love you.

PS...Thanks for teaching me to put peanut butter on pancakes.
  And for teaching me to drive a stick shift and not freaking out when I lost the window in your Rabbit.