Thursday, September 3, 2009

To My Grandfather


I've thought about writing this for awhile, and finally decided to do it. Consider this an open letter. I know it doesn't do me any good as it comes years late but I'd rather be late then never say it at all.

I know we were not close, I would not say we did not get along, but we certainly spoke a different language. You came from a life of working with your hands, fixing things, building things, and when you were alive I was stuck in a digital world, computers meant more to me then tangible objects. I guess, to a point, they still do.

I was too young to understand the value of the information you could have imparted. I've said many times how I wish you were still around so I could pick your brain, learn from you, work with you. I would imagine you would have had no problem with coming to Rochester to help me tear apart a car, and I'm sure I would have made fewer mistakes under your guidance.

I'm sure a case of beer would have changed hands, but that would have been a small enough price to pay.

I find myself wondering about things, tangible real world things, like 120v wiring, and how best to tear apart my apartments bathroom sink to clean out the trap. Questions I'm sure you could have answered in a matter of moments.

I guess this all boils down to I'm sorry I did not realize what I had until it was long gone.


Anonymous said...

There are tears in my eyes.

Thank you for this very nice piece.


Anonymous said...

This made me cry, too. I miss him so much. I can't imagine what it's like for all of you guys that didn't get to know him as well as Molly and I did.