Tuesday, August 13, 2013


Funny thing about grief. How it comes in waves.

How one minute, you're giggling with your 7 year old over a silly book, and the next minute, you're fighting tears because of a memory.

A beautiful memory...a funny one...a sad one...or just in general remembering what a total goofball your Grampa was.

How do we cherish the moments we have with those we love? How do we make the most of our time?

Because, I tell ya what...tonight, I miss my Grampa Vic. And so I will therapeutically write...

Dear Gramps (he chuckled when I called him that):

I thought of you tonight while reading Big D a book about Jesus. It mentioned some of the questions we might have when we get to heaven...some silly ("Why did you make spiders have 8 legs and humans only 2?") and some serious ("I wonder if Grandma is doing well and if she's making friends in heaven."). And there it was - a flood of memories and emotion. {Try explaining that to my 7 year old.}

Sometimes my husband does a perfect impression of your laugh...you know the one...the belly laugh. And it makes me giggle and smile remembering you and all the things you laughed about. Some of it was honestly lost on me, and a piece of me wishes I would have asked about it.

Duck tape is all the rage in Kid's Ministry...that makes me think of you. Though you would NEVER have gone for checkered, dotted, or fire-laden ones, you certainly always had plenty of the old gray stuff. And you used it for everything from car repairs, clothing malfunctions, bruises, and my personal favorite: open wounds {smh -_-}.

For some reason, mashed potatoes reminds me of you. It's something Grandma would fix a lot when we were there, and it always grossed me out when you just piled all your food together and just...dug in. And you would chuckle at me, and say, "What? It's all going to the same place...them's gonna stick to your ribs."

If you saw how big D & Miss R are getting, I'm sure you would have some classics to say (that only you would say): "Where's the bricks? I need to put one on your head to keep you from growing." And that hug...more of a chokehold than an embrace...but at least we knew what to expect with you.

I'm so thankful for all the memories I have with you. Sometimes I wish I would have just grabbed a pair of cowboy boots that you offered (every.single.time. we came to visit). Who woulda known they'd be "in" again? Both my kids would LOVE to have a pair, and how fun would it be to have those stories to tell about your hoarding of all things...non-essential.

I miss you.

And I do you, too...

1 comment:

  1. Thanks for sharing your Gramps with us! Mine is Daddy-daw (who knows why? I picked that name when I was about 14 months old and now my kids also use it and they are 9 and 11)