Father's Day- Memories of Grandpa
My grandpa was a CPA. He had an office in his home and the walls were covered with pictures his grandchildren made for him. He'd let us use the adding machine and I felt so grown up listening to the clack-clack of the old machine.
My grandpa loved his grandkids. He spoiled us. Loved having us around. Never scolded or yelled. Once, when my dad was out of work, as my grandparents left our house, Grandpa pressed a dollar in my hand. Not a big thing, but it said so much about how he loved me.
Grandpa picked my name. He named me after my grandma, Julia. He adored her. He worshiped her and treated her like a queen. It's no wonder she mourned like she did when he was gone. Wouldn't you if the earth who revolved around you disappeared? Her light was never quite as bright.
I'm sure I was his favorite. My siblings and cousins would probably claim the same thing (though they'd be wrong). He had a way of making each of us feel special.
I was twenty-one when he died. My light was dimmed as well.