I remember reading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory when I
was little. And in that book, Charlie’s grandparents lived with him. They took
up residency in a bed in Charlie’s living room. I remember thinking how cool it
would have been to have my grandparents living in my house like Charlie did. I
mean not in a bed all hours of the day…that would have been awkward when my
parents had company over. But you know, like they had their own room in my
house. I could come home from school and there they’d be. My grandma would be
cooking or trimming her rose bushes and my grandpa would be watching his 49ers
or fixing something or playing the organ that would have also been in my house
if they lived there, because my grandpa could play the organ like no one’s
business. Alas, Roald Dahl did not
write my life and they never did live with us. But, I consider the
relationship I had with them a very close second to what Charlie experienced.
My grandparents were such an integral part of my life. Some
of my fondest memories from my childhood involve them. Holidays, summer
vacations, band concerts, plays, my engagement, my wedding, my baby news. I
knew I could count on them always. They were there cheering me on and
celebrating with me.
And now, I consider it an honor and a blessing to be here
today to help cheer on and celebrate with my grandpa. My grandfather has been a steadfast presence
in life. His generosity knows no bounds. He possesses strength and calm that
both comforts and encourages. He is knowledgeable and wise. He has an air of
cool and suave that rivals any member of the rat pack. He challenged me to be fearless. He taught me
to dive into the deep end (both literally and metaphorically), he let me drive
his car when I was still a few years from 16. He took me on adventures through
beautiful country. He played dolls with me (and even made me my own, gorgeous
doll house), he read with me, he listened with a smile as I played, what I can
only assume, a painful rendition of hot cross buns on my flute. He encouraged me to sing. He took pictures and video and laughed until
he cried with me. He is a giant among men, and I am humbled that I get to share
in who he is…that I get to be his granddaughter.
I’ll end with this. My husband always pokes fun at me
because I am constantly taking pictures. He tells me that I should enjoy the
moment and not worry about being behind a camera trying to capture it to
remember later. So, I try to take memory snapshots. These are moments so precious that I know a
camera would not be able to truly capture the pure emotion of the
experience. One of these moments was
when my grandpa held my son (his great grandson) for the first time. It was a
bittersweet moment, as my grandma was
not able to share in the experience. But sitting next to my grandpa as he held
my son is a moment in my life I will carry with me until I take my last breath.
It was a moment of pure happiness during an otherwise tragic time in the Rick
family. It was the moment I looked at my
grandfather’s quiet strength and resilience and knew that we would carry on and
continue to take adventures and make memories.
So today, I wish you a happy 85 years, my
dear grandpa. Thank you for being an ever present member of my cheering
section. You are more wonderful to me
than you’ll ever know, and I love you beyond forever. Happy birthday.
