An Open Letter to Grandpa

Dear Grandpa,

The rain is falling outside my window and I am thinking of you.  It's been almost a year now, and you are more than ever on my mind.

Today, I want to tell you about your great-grandson.  He's growing so big, Grandpa.  I wish you could see him.  Or I wish I could see you seeing him.  You would enjoy being with him, just as you always enjoyed all your grandchildren.

He's been to the beach this year for his first time.  I have pictures of you playing with each of my children at the beach, but I won't ever have one with you with him there.

I'm teaching him about little creatures, Grandpa, like you would do.  The other week he played with a caterpillar for a long while, gently, so that, while all the hair rubbed off it, it was not crushed or hurt.  He's interested in cicadas too.  He tries to say the word, and recognizes their raspy chirp.   He rode for a while in the stroller with one resting on the strap.  Then when it chirped he got a little afraid, but I was calm like you always were to show him there was nothing to fear.

Not long ago he found a dead rat and was gently and kindly stroking it in his lap when I saw him.  I think you would have laughed if I'd told you the story, but I would have had to tell you out of his hearing.  It's a serious story to him and you would have treated his feelings about it with respect.  He's gentle to God's creatures, Grandpa, just like you, and I am proud that he is.

Did you know that he can say "bird"? It sounds like "Brrr."  But Grandpa, who's going to lift him up and show him a nest filled with eggs?  Who's going to show him which kind of seeds to fill the bird feeder with?  Or how to call back to a bluebird?  I will do those things for him and you will be there through me. . .  But I wish it could really be you!

He loves tractors, Grandpa.  He says "Da-Doo."  But you're not here to take him for a ride on one.  

Taken from Bacon from Acorns

 Or build him something treasured with your strong, capable hands

  I wish you were here to take him fishing.

Or to take him on wonderful outings and then write him a letter afterward, with a picture tucked inside, just because.

Or just to hold him and listen to him, so attentively, so whole-heartedly.  You did that for me.  I wish you were here to do that for him.

You did hold him once.  Just once.  Sorry that he cried.  He's a little wary of strangers, and he didn't have time to get to know you.  You got teary Grandpa, I remember.  And so did I.  Were we both thinking of how you wouldn't have time with him?  I think you were torn between wanting to hold him and being afraid that he would fall.  And you wanted him to be happy.  You always thought of others feelings like that, Grandpa.

Today, as I put my son to sleep I sang to him and thought of you.  It was a favorite song of yours.

Tell me why the stars do shine.
Tell me why the ivy twines
Tell me why the sky's so blue
And I will tell you just why I love you.

Because God made the stars to shine
Because God made the ivy twine
Because God made the sky so blue
Because God made you, that's why I love you.

I love you Grandpa.  Will you watch over my son as he grows?  You can't be here in the way I want, to do these loving things with your great-grandson, but I know that you can do other things for him now that you are filled with even more life and love than you had here on this earth.  And I know you will.  You are taking care of all of us.

I miss you, Grandpa.
Love,
M