I have always loved spending time with my grandparents. I feel like there is a special bond between a grandparent and grandchild that is hard to explain. Like our parents, grandparents love us unconditionally and support us in all decisions. They want what is best for us and encourage us to follow the right path in life. When a grandparent gives advice, a grandchild listens with a tentativeness that is not always there when a mom or dad speaks.
I have been blessed with two sets of wonderful grandparents. Whether it is AMAZING cooking even now that I am a vegetarian (thank you Grandma Lillian!), laughs, hugs, and unconditional holiday spirit (Nana you’re the best!), or lunch conversations and daily emails (that’s my Papa!), I know that each of my grandparents brings a special element to my life that cannot be replaced by anyone else.
Over the past couple of weeks I have been blessed with a new element to my relationship with one of my grandparents. My Papa has been sharing his “stories” with me. Tales of his cross-country adventure, very similar to mine. Mischievous college days. Friends from the past who he still talks to today.
I looked up some definitions of the word “story.” Phrases such as “to ornament with pictured scenes as from history” and a “legend, anecdote, record, history, or chronicle” popped up. I like these definitions because they show what Papa’s stories are: a picture of his past and a new look into not only his life, but mine as well.