My Grandpa passed away a month before my 8th birthday. He was my hero. I loved him more than anything in this world. The day he died my life was shattered. I remember my second grade tears pouring down my cheeks, the sudden emptiness, and mostly how alone I suddenly felt. My grandpa was always special to me. He used to chase me around the house and read Br'er Rabbit and the Tar Baby to me. I miss him even now. He made such an impact on my childhood and my life.
One summer, he tied a yellow and black rope (it had a loop at the end to slip our foot in and knots every foot or so) to the sweet gum in the backyard. He promised a reward to the first grandchild that could climb that rope to the top. Funny thing, I don't recall who the first to reach the top was or even what the reward was, but I do remember how hard we all worked. We tried for days to climb that rope. Slowly we found ourselves climbing higher and higher. We never gave up. I will never forget how accomplished I felt when I reached the top of that rope and slung myself onto the branch it was tied to.
Looking back on that tree and that rope I realize that my grandpa was trying to teach us something. He was trying to teach us to never give up. He wanted us to work hard so that we could reach great heights in this life.
I often wonder what kind of advice he would give me. He was such a remarkable person. What I wouldn't give to have 5 minutes to talk to him! I'm so grateful for him and the life lessons he taught me.
No comments:
Post a Comment