Tuesday, April 13, 2010

My Grandfather...

    My grandfather was always an influence in my life. He brought happiness to my siblings and me when we were children growing up in Douglas Arizona. At that time, a rather small border town, now a very large player in the drug war in the United States. A population exceeding 100,000 people, mostly all of them Hispanic. A culture all its own but very much a part of me. Being a minority in a foreign land among foreign people will always have a role in my life. My grandfather, Corky, was a spirited person, one led to small talk and meaningful words. He demanded a respect but was very understanding. I will never forget my grandfather because of the impact he had on my life.

     We homeschooled and both he and my grandmother taught at our school. English, Math, and computer familiarization. Although computer was not in our official curriculum, he always managed to get a lesson in on his days of teaching. I will never forget visiting with him and my grandmother. Their house was warm and welcoming. It had this attractive draw to it. It is hard to put into words but it held this comfort feeling about it. I would always find an excuse to go over and visit with them during the afternoons after school was out for the day. Growing up in a very tight-control style of home, it was a break to go to his house and he had a real television which my mother still does not know we watched. Having been forbid from doing or being a part of anything with a worldly slant to it, we grew up living off self-created fun and pure adrenaline. It was fun to sit around and tell my grandparents everything that my siblings and I were having difficulties with at the time. Living in a cult-style environment, it was an almost like finding a refuge to visit their home during my childhood and myself and my older sister would always confide in my grandparents as they were always there for us. One of many trailers circled around the cult leader’s trailer, their trailer was on the fringe of the compound and the opposite side of our own doublewide mobile home. It was perfect. Security in a very unsecure world.

     I will always remember the feeling of freeness I always got when I visited their home. My grandfather always on his computer and my grandmother always in their small kitchen. She was a saint of saints. God took extra time to create her. She was the most patient and loving person I have ever met. A strong woman of God. An Esther of our time. My grandfather was a hero in my eyes and the eyes of my siblings. He always stuck up for us to the cult elders who he was always butting heads with. Although done with a grace only my grandfather can reveal, he would always stand up to their constant bullying and mistreatment of us children, which was a regular event. He did not budge an inch and this affected my life in a very positive way. I look back now and wonder in complete amazement at the level of tact that my grandfather used when dealing with my own parents and the other elders in the compound.

     He instilled in me a feeling of endurance and hope. I spent more than enough time irritating my grandfather as I tended to be overbearing but he showed loving-kindness even in the most stressful of situations. He is a man of God among men of God. He is my own hero. I look up to him. I have this awe binding respect for him. Some people are in your life, others outside your life, and only a few ever making it into your heart. My grandfather will always be an influence to me and has played a major role in my salvation. God used that man to reach so many other lives but used him to change mine. I thank the Lord that I have a relationship with my grandfather and love him very much.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Your input is welcomed...Feel free to post your comments!