There are so many stories I could tell about my Grandpa. I often tell my friends stories about him that he's told me. When he dropped out of high school because he couldn't even pass a test when he was cheating and, in his words, "What the hell use is that?" Or when he had his pants down in a recruiter's medical exam room at the end of World War II. Or when I realized on one visit with him that he was tipping 25% at every restaurant we went to because he felt like everyone was working hard.
But I think the story that has had the most influence on who I am and what my values are now would have to be this one: When I was very young, so young that this is more of an impression in my mind than a specific memory, Grandpa would take me on walks in a forest. I don't know where this forest was or how big it was but, from my perspective, we would invariably get lost. And he would never lie to me and say he knew where we were if he didn't. And it was okay not to know because he was always so sure we'd find our way and get home fine.
I don't think there's a better way to sum up what a great man he was. He wasn't all-powerful or all-knowing and he never claimed to be either. But he knew everything would be okay. That honesty and confidence mattered so much to me as a small child holding onto his hand. I was never scared of being lost, I believed him when he told me we'd be fine.
And now when my loved ones and I get lost in the forest of our lives, I try to hold their hands and to tell them that I don't know where we are or where we're going but I do know we'll get there just fine. My Grandpa told me so.
I'm not very good at family. I haven't lived around my own family in a long time. And when I do visit, I always feel awkward, like I don't know what to say or do or feel.
But my Grandpa understood family. To him, everyone in the whole world was family. And he loved us all so much. And we will miss him. I love you, Grandpa.
