Day 209

A Man For All Seasons

The Great 'Grampido'

The Great 'Grampido'

After the long hiatus, I am back and ready to reflect on all the events of this past holiday season.  Perhaps that feels as fresh, as a creepy, stale fruitcake you may still have sitting on the counter, or maybe in our culture of insta-nostalogia, it will feel just right?

What I found most about this time, is that the things I inherited from my mom, were not all clothes, in fact they varied widely, from food to traditions, to people.

People?  Yes.  I can honestly say that one of the greatest things I inherited from my mother is my Stepfather.  They were married for 29 years when my mom passed away.  He has always been like a father to me, and my children have known him  their entire lives as  “Grampy”  (as do many of my close friends). 

After my mom died, it would have been easy for him to recede, he lives across the country, and while he is very spry, he is approaching his mid 80’s.  But lo and behold, this summer, he called me to announce that he had found a very good fare to California for the Holiday’s.  I said: “book it!”  Without ever really discussing an arrangement, we have somehow settled on one; he switches off years and holidays between my family and the children from his first marriage.  Thanksgiving with us one year, with them the next, you get the picture.   In between the major Holidays, we try and visit him on the east coast at least once or twice a year.  We talk every week, sometimes more.  We love him, and he loves us.  I cant tell you how much the relationship means to me.  It feels like a part of my mom is still there when he is around. 

This past visit I told him how much I missed talking to my mom.  How much I missed that unconditional sounding board, the person that never judged, was always on my side, but would tell me when I was acting crazy.  You know what he said to me?  “You know you can always call me, you can talk to me about all that stuff, I promised your mom I’d be there and take care of you”  He really meant it.  It was the sweetest, kindest thing.  I still get a lump in my throat thinking about it. 

It was and is a comfort.