I saw my Grandfather this morning.  Considering that he died 17 years ago, it was quite a shock.  No, this is not a ghost story.  Most people look at old photos of their grandparents to see what they looked like.  I just get to look in the mirror.  It wasn’t that many years ago that I began to realize that I was becoming my Papa Charlie in both physical attributes and mannerisms.   My facial features, profile, and  body shape  all began looking like his.  All the goofy things he would do and say that would make me roll my eyes and groan are mysteriously being  transferred to me.   I was young and stubborn, and he was old and narrow-minded – never the twain should meet.

Actually he was not that old.  He was only 38 when I was born which allowed us to have 43 years together.  Most grandchildren do not get that many years.  He got to see me grow up, and got to see his great granddaughters.  At the time, though, I did not realize the gift that it truly was.  No matter what I did he would tell me I was stupid.  I hated it, and because of that I would keep up my wall to match his. He was right – I was stupid.  All he ever wanted was for me to be happy.  Whenever things would go wrong, they would seem to work out for the best – and he was always like a shadow in the background.

 Good grandparents don’t need front row seats, or to be listed in the program; they just want us to be happy and taken care of.  He spent his life wanting me to be happy.  He did not tell me what to do or where to go or how to be – but was always there as a constant safety net.  I really miss him.  I have so many things I want to explain to him.  I want to hear another of his silly jokes.  By the time I figured out how much he loved me, he was gone.  I really was stupid.  Actually I think he still hangs around as a shadow in the background.

 I wish my future grandchildren could have met him – they would like him – no, they would love him. He would just want them to be happy – and do everything possible to make it happen.

Last year I went to my stepfather’s funeral in Ohio. I arranged to meet my youngest brother at his hotel the day before.  I had not seen my brother in over 20 years.  He saw me drive up and walked out to the parking lot to greet me.  After a big hug his first words to me were  “ Oh my God, Danny, when I saw you get out of your car, I thought you were Papa Charlie”.  That was the best thing he could have ever said.

 I wish I could see Papa Charlie again – well actually, I do, every time I look in the mirror.