Grandpa

sidenote: I am in college. I should not be doing busy work.

Okay so last week I had a wonderful opportunity to go down to St George and visit my boyfriend's extended family (He's from New Hampshire if you were wondering). Well I met his grandpa, Papa Andy as I will not refer to him as. What an interesting experience.
He is so awesome. He's funny, smart, caring and exactly what a grandpa should be. He taught me how to play the organ for an hour and talked with me about his career working for NASA. Ya, he's the guy that came up with the experiment to see if there was water on the moon. He's kinda a smartie pants. He taught me about geology and hiked up Angels landing with us. He baked us delicious cinnamon rolls (almost as good as yours moms but I still have my loyalties). He laughed with us and talked with us and made us go around in a circle and say what we were grateful for. But can I tell you a secret? I felt awkward.

I'll tell you why. I've never really had a grandpa. I didn't know how to act. I didn't know what my role was. I wanted so badly to call him my own grandpa, to have his love, care, and wisdom in my life. But I didn't have a familiar grandpa-granddaughter relationship to fall back on. I was lost.

My mom's father died when she was one in a plane accident. He was a pilot, he was handsome, an artist and undoubtedly an incredible man. I only wish I could have known him, but I wish my mom had known him more.

My dad's father was great. He lived in Utah while we lived in Arizona. We saw him only occasionally and I felt second best next to my cousins who grow up around him. Though I have one vivid memory of him brushing the thorns out of my feet in his backyard, I don't remember him from my childhood. I remember after moving to Utah his health declined, he became delusional and went mad. These are my memories of him. I watched him die peacefully surrounded by his family and I remember sitting there enveloped in joy and the thought that I would see him again. I had a feeling... "I don't really know this man". But I will know him as he was.

I didn't know my grandpa's. I hear stories of them and feel their love in my life and in their children who are my parents. I know they are a part of me, but I do not know them. I can not wait to know them. To hear their life stories. To share experiences with them and love them as the men they are. To know them personally and to learn from them and their examples. Thank you Papa Andy, for showing me how great grandpa's can be.