I stopped blogging last May when my Grandpa died.

Suddenly nothing I could say seemed very important.

And how could I possibly start writing again without writing about this man who meant so much to me? Whose loss I am certain to feel every day for the rest of my life?

It hurt too much for too long and I knew that whatever I said would be inadequate.

But the time has come.

My dad wrote a great story about Grandpa that my son read at the memorial service. Be sure to have him tell you about it the next time you see him. It told a simple story about my grandpa that related a profound truth about him. He was always there when you needed him and went to extraordinary lengths to be sure he was.

While I'm not near the story teller Dad is, I want to share my own story about Grandpa.  The profound truth is that he had a way of making everyone he was with feel special. Important. Good at things. Loved.

When I was a teenager I was attacked by the ugly tree. Some kids go through an awkward phase, but mine was more like an awkward decade. I grew really tall really all at once, had pimples, didn't have a clue how to wear my hair or do makeup. I was a mess. And I knew it. Even those closest to me knew it. And I could see it in their eyes.

They had hope for the future, but were clearly aware that the once moderately cute little girl that I used to be had morphed into a painfully awkward and ugly teenaged mess.

Except Grandpa.

He came to visit us (as he did often) and we all went for a horseback ride (as we all did often). We rode past a patch of lavender colored flowers and I was wearing a lavender colored shirt that day. He asked me to get off my horse and go sit in the patch so he could take some pictures of me. He loved taking photos and had a really nice camera at the time.

You would have thought I was a supermodel the way he oohed and aaahd and had me sit this way and that.  He made me feel great; silly at first, but ultimately great. 


It wasn't an act. It wasn't something he schemed to do to encourage me or anything. It was just him. 

He was so kind that it filled his eyes and through that filter I actually looked beautiful.

To him, most people did.


  1. Thank you for this tribute to your grandfather. I am grateful the Lord blessed you with him and that you would share this with us. It is honoring and a blessing.

  2. Thanks sweet E. Miss seeing you.