My Grampa

 

This is my beloved Grampa, My Dad's Dad.
He always had a twinkle in his eye and he'd tease me.
 and
both of us would always be in trouble. lol
My Grand mother used to collect 50 cent coins in those days.
He'd go into her drawer and steal one for cigarettes.
I'd see him and he'd quietly shush me.
Then he'd take me by the hand and we'd go to the corner store.
His cigarettes cost 45 cents and this left a nickel for me for candy.lol

My Grand mother never remembered how much paper currency she had
but she knew to the last penny, how many coins she had.
She'd always check and begin to blame me for stealing her money.
Of course I never did but I never gave away my Grand Dad.

 I was always taught never to take things from people
 they didn't give you, especially from dead people.
It's bad luck and the dead always come back for their things.
This applied more during the war when people stole from the dead on the street and
then a bomb would fall or bullets and they too would die.
My Grand Father never hid in bunkers during bomb shellings and my Grand Mother
 was always mad at him.
He said: "If it's not my turn, I won't die."
My Grand Mother always had something to say but he was always quiet, busy
calculating some drawing he was doing for work. He worked at Canada Air.
He had beautiful handwriting.
One day I asked my grand mother if my grand father was a Saint.
She looked at me and began to laugh so hard lol
She asked why I would  think so?
 I said :
Because he is always nice, never yells or fights or argues and he had the bluest of blue eyes.
I thought he was a Saint

My Grand Mother then went and began telling every one, including my Grand Father,
 what I was thinking about him.
My Grand Father was a saint.

Before he died, he told all us kids to make sure we study and
make something of ourselves .
When he died on my 13th birthday, he came to say good bye.
He smiled at me and I smiled back closing my eyes and fell asleep thinking I was safe
 because my Grand Father was by my side.
He asked my Mom for a cup of coffee and she was serving him
only to see he wasn't there
and at his house he had his last say, by banging on the back door so hard,
 every one jumped to see what was wrong, but no one was there.
The next day lightning struck the tree by their bedroom window and broke it in half.
All this happened the first day after he died.
It freaked my Grand Mother and Aunt out .lol
It was his way of telling them, he was still there and they better behave lol

So..... I will never say the spirit world doesn't exist .
There is something out there we don't understand and it's watching over us.


xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

P.S. Now that I am writing this piece I realized that I married the same kind of man as my grand father.
And
I have turned into my grand mother.
I am always babbling and he is always silent doing and  thinking about other things.
But is he a saint??

hahahahahahahahahahahahaha