My grandfather died just a few years ago now. He and I were very close and I loved him very much. It was mutual. And yes, Grandpa was not one to give out empty compliments, indeed, he could be quite frank. I think I loved him for that, too. But more than my parents..... more than my siblings..... he was my confidant. I kept no secrets from him, he knew me (good and bad). And what I never told him, somehow he knew. He was never one to pat on the head and say "that's okay" if it wasn't okay. BUT, he always loved me. He'd die for me. He's do anything for me. As much as could be from a child and then teen, it was mutual. THAT was why I could be open, honest, frank, real. Depending upon the situation, he might forgive.... might reprove.... might just listen.... might counsel. And through it all, I KNEW his absolute love.
He and grandma lived in Wisconsin. They'd visit once year (a visit I cherished) but Mom let me phone him anytime I wanted. And I did. From the time I was 3 or so, I understand. Some of our chats were pretty long. Mom later told me she never even attempted to listen in because she knew her father and knew she didn't need to. I still talk to him sometimes, although he's in heaven now and can't say anything back.
I guess when I think of God, he's the closest image I have. But obviously, he was just a man, a mortal.... fallen at that. God is in a whole other category, lol.
- Josiah
