Gangsta Gramps

Today is my grandfather's birthday. I call him Gangsta Gramps because of his high school graduation picture. Dark olive skin with dark hair and eyes in his beautiful suit. Looked like one of those guys named Louie that you would be afraid to take a ride with after just pissing off the Boss.

By far, my grandfather is my favorite relative. I've always had a fondness for the man. When I first came to the states a three decades ago, I attached myself immediately to him. I chose him among all others to adore and love unconditionally.

I remember when he would walk around his house with a Naomi clinging to him. I would stand on the top of his shoes and wrap my arms around his legs as he took giant steps around the kitchen. I remember sharing his pockets when walking side by side with him anywhere I could follow him. I remember his wrinkly beard scratching me when I leaned in to kiss him. His fingers missing from a grinding accident but his untruthfullness about sucking on them too long and too hard. His calling me his Southern Belle thick with a Wisconsin accent. Or his twinkling eyes that winked.

I always felt like his favorite and to me that meant alot. I was never anyone's favorite. But Gramps always seemed to understand my moods. When I got pregnant with Em, my relationship with him changed dramatically. I've lost the closeness that seemed to tie him and me. He's a stickler for that Catholic way of life and well, I just don't fit that mold anymore. It's hard to mourn a relationship.

But, today is his day. I called and left a message on my grandparents' machine wishing him a good day and lots of love for both of them. I hope he heard in my voice how much I love him so and how much I wish I were able to share his pockets again.

Happy Birthday, Grampa!

Comments

[ali]

Awww that is so sweet. :)