A Love Letter
Friday, November 30th, 2007Pain is a constant companion and isn’t a very good one. I try to reason
with it, and I end up feeling miserable. I cannot help but think about you. You, who had so much to give and share with me.
Even when I was young, you were a constant figure. You were there to see me grow up. I cried, I laughed, I learned, and you were there to guide me. With you gray hair and chunky glasses, I would watch you think and brood, and your sudden smile would light up your face as quickly as it came.
I think about the time I missed being with you. So many years have passed since I saw you again, and for a brief moment, I imagined you not being in my life. I wanted to cry. But I know you would be there, as you always were. The gray hair has turned to white, and with that came a wiry frame that was fragile. Still the eyes were as vibrant as ever, and a mind that was well-running.
You taught me to be strong and live for my dreams. With your voracious hunger for knowledge you taught me to love learning; always told me that knowledge is a constant thing. You were so strong, so wise and your presence was always a comfort, I always loved being by your side. You always gave me a hug when I left down. I never loved crowds, and you always seemed understand that, not pressing me to join the others or pretend to have a good time.
I get lost in the books you taught me to read. Those books which you gave me to learn more about the world, to never give up on things, to help me know myself and more. I read them constantly, ever so often reminded of the things you taught me. You always loved books.
You never said much, but I always knew that every time we saw each other, you were glad to see me. As I always am glad to see you.
I remember you with a teary face and wistful smile. My pain is more insistent as I try to hold on the hope that you will pull through this, like the strong person that you are.
I love you, grandpa.