I never knew either of my grandfathers. They died before I was born. I imagine they both would have been gentlemen; maybe one more serious than the other. I just know that right now, at sixty-two, I am missing two men I’ve never known. I just need one. I’m not being greedy.
I imagine going on long walks with him when I was younger and talking about life. He’d tell me how he walked miles to school in the snow. He listened to the radio because there was no TV. I’d always want to hear the story of how he met my Grandmom. I’d have so many questions and really big smiles.
We’d go for ice cream and sit on a bench and talk like buddies as we licked our identical ice cream cones. In my mind, a Grandpop loves you whether you’re a little terror or a perfect child. He probably prefers a spitfire, to be honest.
In my teen years, I’d call him to complain that my parents were too strict. He’d invite me to be grounded at his house so we could watch movies and eat popcorn together. During that time he would tell me how he did the same to his kids to keep them safe from harm. My anger at my parents would soften a little.
The older I get the more aware I am of missing a Grandpop. I have little knowledge of their lives. I only know that one died at age forty- four and left his wife with ten children to raise alone, during the Depression. He was a funny man who loved his family. My other Grandpop was an alcoholic, married to a very sweet woman who rolled her eyes, just like I do. I don’t even know what he did for a living.
Maybe this loss I’m feeling is due to watching my husband with our grandchildren. He is attentive, silly and they just love his simple antics. He takes them one by one on long walks on the beach. They pick up shells, chase the birds, and race the waves at the shore. They are only three, sixteen months and fourteen months right now. And yet, the traditions have begun. The three year old just learned the Sea Isle City song our kids used to sing driving over the bridge for vacations in NJ.
As we started the incline it would begin. “Sea Isle City here we come! Right back where we started from….da..da..da..da..da da..da.” The entire car would rock from the song and cheers. He changed the lyrics “Pops Beach here we come.”
He also has them convinced that the beach is his. “Pops Beach” is chanted with pumping arms and lots of giggles and really big smiles. Watching them it’s no wonder I want a Grandpop.
On my drive to work I usually chat with God. Most days, I talk and He listens. When He talks, I listen. The other morning I said, “Good morning, God, I know I am very blessed and I don’t have a thing to ask of you. But if you could just sprinkle a few “puffs of grace” on me today, I’d be very grateful.” And He did. Within thirty seconds I realized that would be the title for my new book that hasn’t been written yet. “Puffs of Grace”…..I smile just writing it.
Some days I tell him that I am sorry I’ve been such a mess lately. “You know how I am and I just can’t get myself together lately. What the heck is going on with me?” I’ll ask. The answer comes, “Anne, you need to slow down.” I take a few deep breaths and feel calmer just knowing He has my back. I think this is what my Grandpop would be like.
And so I realized I have the best Grandpop in the world. I simply adopted God to fill that missing piece in my life. I do wonder if I ever wear Him out with requests. I imagine Him asking St. Peter, “Can you keep an eye on her today, Pete? She’s a handful this week.” And St Peter would say, “Oh no! Not again this week! Can’t St Anthony do it?” God would reply, “Hey that’s my granddaughter you’re talking about! She’s taken up half of St Anthony’s time praying for lost things. He’s hiding from her.”
But it’s okay. My Grandpop knows me well and loves me just the way I am. So if you are thinking of adopting a Grandpop, I’m just letting you know that God is taken.
Wait…wait….He just whispered that I need to learn the importance of sharing. I think He believes there’s always room for another granddaughter.
That would make us all related! He’s smiling now. So am I.
I’ll see you at our family reunion.
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