Lessons of life from an 89 year old.

I am reposting this blog in honor of my dear Grandfather, who passed away on Easter morning April 20, 2014. He lived a long, good, humble life full of love, humility, laughter, and surrounded by the people he loved. Everywhere he went, people enjoyed his wit, friendliness, and kindness. For such a simple life; he still managed to profoundly influence everyone around him. Farewell Grandpa; I'll be seeing you in all the old, familiar places..........

My grandfather turned 89 this month. It's hard for me to believe he is one year away from being 90 years old. He is a tall, handsome man with a twinkle in his eye.  I've always felt proud that this man was my Grandpa. Lately, he has had some physical challenges that have left him more vulnerable than before. I find myself wanting to protect, and cover him. I think about him every day and pray for him even more. As the years go by, I feel like my sense of connection to him grows stronger.

He was a carpenter. He built my mother's first home that I had my first birthday in, and built the home he still lives in. When I had my first home built, he came and inspected it and was most interested and delighted in the furnace and hot water tank. Those same hands that built good, sturdy homes, also played the most beautiful music. He is a guitar player and I loved hearing him play. When my Grandmother was alive, she would sing along to his playing and I would soak it all up, my heart just getting bigger and bigger from the sweetness of it all. He has always kept things simple; having lived through the depression gave him a unique perspective on what is really important. He is extremely generous. Every time my kids and I visit him, he is reaching in his pocket to give my kids a "little something". If I protest, his rebuttal is, "What am I going to spend it on?"

I love talking with him about his past. His childhood was vastly different than mine. We grew up in completely different worlds; yet, he relates so well to such a broad range of people. He has shared stories with me of his life during the depression; the war; riding the streetcars in Edmonton, and having his milk delivered to his house every morning in glass bottles.

The most compelling hope I have for him in these twilight years of his life, is that those that do not know him like I do, would treat him with the same love and value that I feel for him. He is so precious to so many; I want him treated accordingly. I would like for him to feel as if, even though he is older and more frail, his value does not change in anyone's eyes. He may not have lead nations, written a world changing novel, or produced a blockbuster movie, but he did teach me compassion, generosity, acceptance of others, and faithfulness in marriage. These values are priceless, and will be passed down for generations. To me, that is a far greater legacy to leave behind and he should be honoured for it.

Now, when I am around the elderly, vulnerable and destitute, I think about my Grandpa and how I love him and wish for him to be treated. My touch is softer, and my attention towards their heart's cry is increased. Whether it's with the homeless of Barquisimeto, Venezuela, or the troubled youth in my own city, I see them through a different set of eyes now.

My wish would be that we would all treat one another like this. That we would remember that the people we are encountering on our everyday journey of life are someone's mother; brother; sister; grandfather. That they are loved dearly and deeply by someone. That they have a destiny, despite what their outward appearance may reflect.



Thank you so much for teaching me this, Grandpa. I love you.

The history of our grandparents is remembered not with rose petals but in the laughter and tears of their children and their children's children.  It is into us that the lives of grandparents have gone.  It is in us that their history becomes a future.  ~Charles and Ann Morse