During the time that my mother and I lived with my grandparents, my grandfather had a stroke, and became weak. He ceased working, and retired, permanently disabled. The man whom I have always called Papa, came to play with me while my mother was away at work. I spend day in and day out in the company of my grandmother and grandfather, while they subtly taught me lessons I would never forget.
My grandmother gave me bits and pieces of her talents and her artistic abilities, in teaching my how to knit, and more importantly, how to sew. It began with simple doll clothing, and eventually became a passion I later used to fuel the creation of many prom dresses, and enrollment at a school for fashion design.
My grandfather passed on to me a love for the world. We took walks, went fishing, flew kites, learned bird calls, and so many more things that I could never adequately put into writing. I recall walking down the road with him at a very early age, searching for "river rocks," which were in fact the faux gem stones one can buy at a gem & mineral store. I don't know when or how he did it, but he would hide the stones, and then take me for a walk so that I could uncover my treasures.
Because of my grandfather, I learned the names and sounds of more birds than I can remember at this point. I learned to identify fish, flowers, and trees. Most importantly, I learned to appreciate the world I was growing up in. He created and helped me to nourish a love for horses, one that most horse-crazy girls saw as obsessive. I saved almost every dollar I found so that I could attend summer camps, and later take lessons and attend shows and competitions.
This was the first time a man proved himself to me, this man became my father.
No comments:
Post a Comment