Love, Grandpa

The man that had the most influence in my life is without a doubt, my grandfather. It’s hard to describe the impact he has had on me and who I am turning out to be. Even though he’s not here, everything he has said to me, everything we have done together is preserved. In photographs, in old diary entries, and of course, in our collective memory of him. I cling on to the bits and pieces I remember because there is no possibility for new memories. 

Today I was asked what I admired the most about my grandfather. I couldn’t really come up with an answer because he was a whole person and I admired him as a whole. All I had for all he was. When I think about him, I never think about one quality that jumps out to me – he was everything I admired all at once. He did have flaws, and I recognized them, but as the metaphor goes, you can never justify sinking a ship with a thousand innocent people and only a handful of criminals. 

He was human. Very human actually. But the best kind of human I have known in my life. He was very upright, righteous to a fault almost. He had a sharp sense of anger – he meant what he said and he wasn't really afraid of anyone. He was honorable, proud. Proud not in an arrogant sense, but dignified. He carried himself a certain way. He didn’t look down on anyone and didn't let anyone look down on him. He was extremely selfless – a friend of a friend of a friend could come to him and ask for a favor and he wouldn’t blink an eye. He loved helping people, he was very generous. 

I’d love to expand on all these things. I have memories associated with each. Little vignettes from his life that I hope to put together sometime soon. Before it escapes us. But for now, I want to focus on two things. 

When I couldn’t answer the one thing I admired about him, I was then asked what I would consider his gift for me to be. What did my grandfather leave me? 

After some thought, I have come to the conclusion that the two most important things he left me are these: 1) A solid foundation in my childhood through being a great role model, and 2) the ability to love and be loved in return.

I don’t know what else I could ask for. He showed me both how I should be, and how people should be. He wasn’t a very religious person but he believed more strongly than most people I have seen. And he lived his belief. He knew how to treat people. One thing he told me repeatedly is that respect isn't something people deserve just by being old. You respect everyone who respects you. Doesn’t matter if they are a child – if they respect you, you respect them and you never abuse or exploit their respect for you. 

Especially as a girl, I am eternally grateful for my grandpa. For empowering me and never making me feel like I was somehow less. It’s rare for us to escape the norms and mindsets of the cultures we live in. “Educate yourself my dear, win your own bread,” he would say. He had these epithets for me that were like, “my noble lamb” or “my clever secret-keeper,” and I always felt extremely valued in his presence. And he loved my grandma the same way. And my mom. And my aunt. And my uncle. And I could see it. I grew up around it. His love, the full scope of his emotions, were always outside of him. He didn’t keep it inside in some immature way of proving his masculinity. He was the best man I know and the man I respect the most. 

Now all this prelude leads to the second point – that is, the ability to love and be loved in return. My grandfather loved me. And it wasn’t the kind of love you expect from people who you know are supposed to love you. It never felt conditional. It never felt contrived. It never felt uneasy or cumbersome. It felt soothing and natural. It nourished me, it filled me with light. 

I took it for granted for a long time – because it was so ever present. It reached me across the ocean. It filtered out of phone calls and low quality video chats. And when he passed away, I realized how much I had gotten used to it. This lifeline almost, or a shield, of unconditional love, was cut off from my life, and I didn’t know what to do. How do you cope with something like that? Going from a constant and stable supply of love and support to this emptiness. Like in a video game where when you receive a certain number of hits, your defenses go down, and you need to wait 60 seconds for them to recharge but you are the most vulnerable in that 60 seconds. That’s how it was. That’s how it is, now, still. But that’s the reason I have started getting help, and have been trying to rebuild this stability for myself. 

My grandfather loved me so much, that when I was 11 and he took me to the dentist, he cried. He didn’t like to see me hurting – even when it was a tiny syringe that would numb my mouth so I wasn't in bigger pain. He couldn't stay in the office with me, because he couldn't look. So he had to go downstairs and smoke a cigarette to calm his nerves. 

That’s the love he raised me with. And I am grateful because through him, I know how it feels to be loved. And I can’t ever repay that. I can only hope to pass it onto the people around me. I want the people I love to feel that love in their bones. I want them to think – this feels right, this feels wholesome. 

Because that’s how I felt and that’s what felt right. And it showed me two things. 1) That kind of love is possible to give, and 2) that kind of love is possible to receive. 

I had been doubting this for the past two years. A lot of things happened that made me feel as though I would never be loved again. Some of that is typical teenage angst I guess. But the lasting repercussions are hard to overcome. Your own mind can be a dangerous place to be. A labyrinth you can’t escape sometimes. And I think that’s what therapy has been helping with. To untangle all those knots and let me navigate my own thoughts. 

Today I could say that I was worthy of that immense love. It was possible to love me that much. And nobody should be able to make me believe anything else. 

That’s my grandfather’s biggest gift to me.