My Grandpa Christensen is an inventor.
In his garage are trinkets and wood shavings from past failed inventions, projects currently in operation, and plans laid out for future inspiration. When he works he wears plaid flannel shirts and suspenders.
He is my only claim to fame.
A slight case of Parkinson's makes him shake a little. When he hugs me he kisses me on the cheeks and says,
"I sure do love ya sweetheart."
When he talks about wood, or chemicals, or cars, his eyes light up and he becomes a little boy. When he has a new idea his mind ticks visibly, and one can see him turning cartwheels and running a million miles a minute in his brilliant brain.
When my grandma became ill he used to sit with her in the hospital room. He was so sad, so very, very, sad. He would sit and sit and hold her hand, and he wouldn't say anything at all when she died.
Around my grandpa is an aura of old fashioned politeness and the humility that wisdom brings. His patience sets him apart and it causes him to glow.
I am afraid to ever lose him.
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3 comments:
Very true, very...true. I had a grandpa like him. He used to typewrite letters to the grandkids, telling them how much he loved us...Only I was too young to ever receive one...but that's okay...I hope you don't lose him soon. Grandpas are the best!
That's so cute! I'm sure had you been older you would have received a very tender and loving letter.
I enjoyed looking at the many pictures on your wall. It brought me closer to The Nedge's family.
you're very lucky. these two blogs made me cry.
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