Although it was nearly fifty-years ago, I still remember a past New Year’s Eve as vividly as if it was yesterday.  It was that year that I learned a lesson that I have carried with me ever since. A lesson that I thank God I learned before it was too late. My New Year’s wish is that when you read this story it will encourage you to reach out to someone in your life and let them know just how much they mean to you, before it is too late. I’m confident that you will gain as much, or maybe more, than them.

The year was 1974 and we were heading into 1975. My Grandma, my Dad’s Mom, had died that year, and my parents were talking about getting a divorce. I was 14 years old and having a difficult time dealing with all of that. My Dad had always been my best friend, but for a brief period of time, I didn’t even want to spend time with him. I started running, something that I would ultimately get pretty good at, not for any other reason than I just wanted to be by myself. I used to go to the bowling alley and watch my Dad bowl every Wednesday night, but I stopped doing that. Every weekend I would go to my Grandparent’s home with my Dad, but after my Grandma died, I had stopped doing that, too. You see, I had allowed my grief and self-pity to blind me from seeing that other people were hurting as bad, and maybe more than I was.

So, on New Year’s Eve 1974 my Dad asked me if I wanted to go see Grandpa. My initial reaction was to say no, but as it was New Year’s Eve, which also happened to be my Dad’s birthday, and as I hadn’t seen my Grandpa much since Grandma’s funeral, I said yes. An immediate big smile came on to my Dad’s face. I grabbed my coat and off we went.

When we arrived at Grandpa’s house, we could see that he was in the small garage behind the house that he had turned into a workshop. My Grandpa was a retired union carpenter and loved working with his hands. He had his back to us when we walked in.  My Dad was the first through the door, and when Grandpa turned and saw my Dad a big smile crossed his face. Much like the smile my Dad had gleamed just a short while before. He sat down the piece of wood he was sanding and hugged my Dad. That is when he saw me come in the shop. I will never forget the look in his eyes, nor the smile on his face when Grandpa realized it was me. Letting go of my Dad, he walked across the shop and hugged me in his bear like arms. He held me longer than I had ever remembered being hugged by Grandpa, but I loved every second of it. The truth is, all three of us had tears in our eyes.

Dad went in the house to get us all a Coke Cola and I stayed and visited with Grandpa. I always enjoyed watching him work with his tools. He was a master craftsman. We were making small talk, but I noticed something different about how Grandpa worked. He was slower than I remembered. I also noticed a shake in his hands that I had never noticed before. As he worked, I studied his features. He was over 6 feet tall with a full head of gray hair that he wore in a flat top. His dark, wrinkled face revealed a man who had worked outside most of his life. His big, calloused hands told the story of a man who had known a life of hard work. His eyes still sparkled, but for the first time I realized how old my Grandpa had gotten. At that moment, I became angry with myself for all of the months that I had let my own self hurting stop me from coming to see him. I knew right then those were months I could never get back, and even at my young age, I knew they were times that I would one day wish I could have back.

When Dad came back with the Cokes, Grandpa said that he was expecting us to be there a little later and he wanted to finish the project as it was a birthday gift for my Dad. He asked if I might help by putting a smooth edge on the piece of wood he handed to me. Of course, I agreed to help! I always loved helping my Dad and Grandpa on any project. Like Grandpa, my Dad was good with his hands and could literally build or fix anything. Grandpa even put Dad to work, sweeping up the sawdust!!

While we worked Grandpa did most of the talking. He told stories about my Dad and my Uncles, including hunting and fishing stories and about the time my Dad had skinned my Aunt Alma’s pet goldfish. Even Dad laughed at the part when Aunt Alma whipped the tar out of him. I think I laughed the hardest about the story Grandpa told about my Dad and my Uncle John and Uncle Doc taking a loaf of bread off of the windowsill that my Grandma had put there to cool before supper. The boys had taken it down and pulled all of the hot, soft bread out of the inside and left only the crust and one end remaining. They put what was left of the bread back on the sill and ran off to eat their spoils of war. Their victory was short lived as it didn’t take long for Grandma to realize she was left with just a shell of a loaf of bread. Grandpa was laughing so hard when he told the story, I could barely understand the end. I’m pretty sure it was that none of the boys could sit down for a week.

I could go on and on about that day but that’s enough to let you know how special it was. When my Grandpa finished his project, it turned out to be a fish shaped fishing pole holder. When he handed it to my Dad he said, “Happy Birthday Son!” I still get teary-eyed when I think about that moment and how only a few people get to call me Dad, and how only two people could ever call me son. That wooden fish, filled with fishing polls hung on the wall in my Dad’s garage until he died.

Eventually my Grandpa moved into my Aunt Sue’s basement and lived to see another eleven New Year’s Days. I spent many more fun days with my Dad and my Grandpa fishing, wood working, picking pears, and just hanging out. He never got over losing Grandma, but us all being together often, I’m sure, helped a lot.  

As for my Dad, I never missed another opportunity to spend time with him. I’m sure my loyalty and companionship helped him get through the divorce with my Mom. I know his love, friendship and wisdom helped me through many difficult times. Whether we were fishing, hunting, working around the house, or just hanging out, I loved every minute of my time with Dad. Although I celebrated 31 more New Year’s Days with my Dad before he went to Heaven, it wasn’t near enough. I loved him so much.

Now, Jeanne and I have 3 wonderful kids, 3 special grandchildren, and an ever expanding family. Although there are times when I am busier than I want to be for an old man, I still try and share as much time with them as possible. Someday, one of them will look back on this New Year’s Day and remember how many more we shared together before I’m off to visit with my Dad and Grandpa forever.

I hope this New Year you realized how Blessed we all are. Let’s make a conscious effort to let bygones be bygones and make amends with estranged family members and friends. Time is short, and let’s not wait until it is too late. You never know, the heart you may be healing may be your own. I know it was my heart that was healed 51 years ago.

 

Happy New Year and God Bless!