What a lovely tribute to your grandfather! I love the way you told it.
Telling the story of a grandparent from the perspective only a grandchild has is magical. I wrote about my grandfather and my mother said “wow, I didn’t know he was that good of a man.” Not that she didn’t have fond memories of her father, mind you, just not as magical as those of a grandchild.
It was tough to pull the strands of this together into a story arc, but once I started exploring this as a story ABOUT storytelling, and what "truth" means when our memories can't be trusted (because of age, or because we physically re-write memories when we recall them), it became easier to tie things together.
Once I had that framework, the random sparks of childhood memory could fit in *as I remember them* with the understanding that the picture is imperfect. Telling his story this way also gave me a way to find grace for things that I hadn't understood as a child, things that I was angry about later, when I realized what he had been trying to tell me. In a way, this was my way of getting over those things, and I'm glad I could do it in a way that still felt like it honored the good in our relationship.
What a lovely tribute to your grandfather! I love the way you told it.
Telling the story of a grandparent from the perspective only a grandchild has is magical. I wrote about my grandfather and my mother said “wow, I didn’t know he was that good of a man.” Not that she didn’t have fond memories of her father, mind you, just not as magical as those of a grandchild.
It was tough to pull the strands of this together into a story arc, but once I started exploring this as a story ABOUT storytelling, and what "truth" means when our memories can't be trusted (because of age, or because we physically re-write memories when we recall them), it became easier to tie things together.
Once I had that framework, the random sparks of childhood memory could fit in *as I remember them* with the understanding that the picture is imperfect. Telling his story this way also gave me a way to find grace for things that I hadn't understood as a child, things that I was angry about later, when I realized what he had been trying to tell me. In a way, this was my way of getting over those things, and I'm glad I could do it in a way that still felt like it honored the good in our relationship.
I really enjoy your writing. Thank you for the story about Grandpa and Grandma Clark.
Happy Holidays to you and yours. :)
Thanks, Randy!