Ralph

It was in the quiet times - the gentle sway of trees with birds singing, the sound of the water gently nudging the little fishing boat out on the lake, the clock in the living room dinging away the minute and the hour - where I felt most at peace in my grandfather's company.

I spent a lot of time with my grandparents growing up, not out of requirement to get me out of my parents hair, but because I enjoyed their company.  I would ask to be dropped off for a weekend, simply to soak myself in the energy of their lives.  I liked the quiet and the calm.  I liked the easy conversation.  I liked them!

I was often my best self around him.  We had...a lot in common.  Not the ones at the table to keep a conversation going, but with the random facts thrown out to make someone chuckle.  I felt comfortable in my own skin with my introverted quietness.  I felt understood.  I felt loved.  I felt respected and seen as someone special.  He never pushed me to do something, but understood the need to sit and read or think or play music, zone out with an old movie.  I would sit at the table in the morning and between his endless cups of watered down coffee *Something he's passed down to me* 

He'd make me eggs for breakfast, often with assorted pastries and treats purchased at the store that morning.... 

"What?"  He'd say to my grandmother..looking down at the chocolate donuts... "They're for Sarah!"  

The last photo we took together 4/29/19 *He'd always date his photos

We'd sit and read the paper, looking out together at my grandfathers garden.  I'd listen to the stories of what's been planted, what animals have been trying to eat them and what he'd been doing to try and prevent or not prevent the eating of them.

Very recently I asked Cara to buy me a tiny vase for a single flower.  Grandpa used to go out first thing in the morning and pick a single flower for this beautiful tiny glass vase, often a little purple button looking flower and leave it on the table or the kitchen window sill.  It always made me happy.

His office was the guest room.  He set up the computer mouse to have a left handed side he constructed himself just for me.  I would sit at his computer til midnight and play solitaire, listen to the BBC and look around the room and absorb my surroundings.  Large jars of jelly beans.  Shelves and shelves of books.  His homemade collection of movies recorded from Sunday night tv movie nights - it felt so safe. 

We'd often sit together and watch videos he made of my cousins playing in yards, look at photos he took of them at different times in their lives.  He loved being a grandfather and great grandfather to all of us allbeit not the type for bear hugs or long visits - he showed it to others that came to visit - explaining who was in which picture on the mantel in the living room as they walked in and how proud he was of each of them, what they were up to now.

When I traveled the world - he traveled with me thru this blog.  He'd print out his favorite entries (all 100 of them) and review them with me when I came to visit once a year....for the travel book he knew I could write some day, when I was ready. 

He loved to learn and explore the world thru reading.  Blogs became my way to communicate to him and let him know I was ok in whatever country or city I was in.  Tell him what I was thinking about and interested in.  That I care about him.  That I loved him.

So grandpa, wherever you are now....I love you and I know how much you loved me and were proud of me.  I'm ok, I know you're ok too.  I'm so grateful for all our times together being exactly who we were inside our skins in the quiet times of birds singing, water lapping and clocks ticking.