8

November Events The Loss of a Patriarch This past November, the patriarch of my family passed away at the ripe old age of ninety-three-years-old. My mother was estranged from her father for the better part of forty years. The scar he left upon her heart, hardened her against him. The wound was only beginning to heal in the last fifteen years of my mother’s life. We as her children were never introduced or made contact with him. I remember the first time that I heard his voice. He called to console me on the day of my mother’s funeral. He said, “Hello, I am your grandfather, and I am deeply sorry about your mom. I hope now we can get to know each other.” I never gave him much thought after that until my grandchildren came along. They wanted to know about my mother. They wanted to know everyone in the family. It was at that time I decided to reach out to my grandfather half-dozen years after the first time we spoke. He was kind to my grandchildren and me. He didn’t speak much but monitored by body movements. I guess he wondered if I would lash out at him for not insisting on my presence during my formative years. None of the deeplyseeded resentment manifested. I was happy to know him. He was kind, gentle and accommodating to my grandchildren and me. They thought he was a great cook and looked forward to when we would see him again. He would smile brightly when we would arrive and never rushed us to leave. My grandbabies got to have a grandpa, a papa, and a great-great Grandpa Ed for the first part of their lives. He will be missed. Paying Respects People came from far and wide to bid my grandfather farewell. I was surprised to see so many clamoring to get into the sanctuary where the service was held. My sister and I had to elbow our way through the crowd to line up for entry. The pastor’s sermon was thoughtful, the friends who spoke recounted stories of the man’s character and disposition, and the choir selections were good but not sung well. Overall, it was a nice service. It didn’t take all day, and the interment was different than any I have seen in my adult life. I guess I was hoping that the man I had come to know was the same in the eyes of others. He indeed was viewed the same by friends and other family members.

9 Publizr Home


You need flash player to view this online publication