QotD: Lost & Found

What have you lost that you wish you still had?
Submitted by gunderson bee.

I wish I still had my Grampsy.  I know that's probably not the right answer.  I'm supposed to say I wish I still had my ipod that was stolen, or that red shirt I accidentally threw away, or my other brown flip flop.  But I read the question, and the first thing that popped into my head was "Grampsy."

He was my mom's father.  He was an amazing person who lived an amazing life.  He and my grandmother were missionaries in Nicaragua and throughout Central America while my mom and aunts were growing up.  He was smart, funny, generous to a fault, and the only real father I ever knew.  My dad was busy being a rock musician, and I should have grown up without a father figure.  But Grampsy was a better dad to me than I could have ever asked for.

My Grampsy taught me how to throw a baseball and a football.  He built me a box kite out of bamboo when I was 10.  It was so well made that it nearly pulled me off of the ground.  Grampsy answered every single question I ever asked, with an astounding amount of patience. I was always quizzing him on how things were made and he would describe these magical factories with impossible seeming assembly lines.  If he didn't know the answer, he would make it up.  I didn't realize this until probably a few years ago.  

He taught me about airplanes, classical music, and Christianity.  The good kind of Christianity where you love everyone because that's what God would do.  Not the judgemental Christianity that most people think of.  He had a tremendous faith and it is his greatest legacy.  He played the viola beautifully and I still can't hear a violin or viola without crying just a little.  He was strong and stable and serious; but he had a weak spot for his grandchildren and we brought out the little kid in him.  He built us sandboxes, indian wrestled with us, drew pictures on command, and told the best bedtime stories.  Everyone loved him, even those who weren't related to him.  The neighborhood kids would all come by to get their bicycle tires aired up.  He continued his ministry to "those whose hearts speak Spanish" as long as his body would let him.  He would have happily given his last penny to help someone less fortunate than him.  He was left-handed, and always always ALWAYS had a pen in his shirt pocket. 

When my dad died in 1994, he was the only adult to distract Lindsay and I completely.  He took us outside to build snowmen, then took us ice skating.  A year later he was diagnosed with colon cancer.  He missed my high school graduation because he was having surgery, but he and my grandma sent flowers.  I insisted on carrying a flower from that bouquet instead of the standard red rose issued to all the other senior girls. 

The cancer kept spreading.  To his stomach, liver, everywhere.  I got to go to chemo with him and he laughed, calling it "smurf juice".  He was dying, but he wasn't sad about it.  He knew he'd lived life well, and preferred to die early before the dementia of old age set in.  I visited him for spring break 2 months before he died.  I was 18 and Linz was 14.  He took us to Celebration Station... one of those places with pizza and video games.  He must have spent $200 on the outing.  We played every single game in there at least twice.  He was happy and laughing and it was one of the best times we had together.  He knew then that it would be our last big outing, even if Linz and I hadn't figured it out by that time.

He finally passed away on May 7, 1996.  I wasn't done with him.  I still needed him.  I can honestly say that there is not a day that goes by that I don't miss him.  The pain is as fresh as if he'd died yesterday.  I hate that he never got to know my children, or any of his other great-grandchildren.  I hate that there are like 12 more drugs available to treat colon cancer that came on the market soon after he died.  Back then there were only 2.  I hate that he won't be able to walk me down the aisle at my wedding.  I miss him and wish he were around to share all the highs and lows with. 

But I do know that he lives on through me.  I've got his love of photography, his faith, his musical ability.  I've taught the girls all the silly songs he sang to me and they are known collectively as "Grampsy's Songs".  I have peace knowing that he is happy and has probably called in a few guardian angel favors on my behalf.  I think of him everytim I hear Vivaldi, sermons or hymns in Spanish, Prairie Home Companion, or the buzz of an airplane.  I still miss him everyday and I wish I still had him.

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