My Grandfather's Legacy

While everyone else is celebrating the memory of a great man of faith and determination, Martin Luther King, Jr., I am celebrating the memory of someone a little closer to my heart. My grandfather, James. 

He was a stable rock in my young life, as I spent a great deal of time at my grandparents' house growing up. And I get a lot of traits from him, besides being a namesake in a sense. He was obsessive with movies and television shows, as am I. He would watch baseball while everyone else complained, as do I. He had a temper...as do I. There are many things we were alike on. Things I never truly noticed until after the fact, as is usually the sad case for everyone whose lost a loved one.

He was in many ways a mystery. And yet, he was grandpa, and no matter how scary he could come across (He was one of those bear of a grandpas. You want to hug him but are afraid he might devour you with those same soft and cuddly looking paws!!), he was ours and he let us get away with most things. 

However, it's a legend in my family, that I'm the only one of his four grandchildren to make him angry or yell. Why? Because apparently I was young and stubborn and a match to be reckoned with for the old school man who believed the man is the head of the household and the final authority (which, I also believe from a spiritual point of view, but I didn't get that when I was younger). 

I sometimes wonder if he ever understood me completely. But I could probably say the same for him about my sister and two cousins as well. Whether he did or didn't, the legand continues. And although being reminded of making my grandpa angry upsets me sometimes, because I already feel like a family blacksheep on that side of the family, it doesn't matter. All I know is, I loved my grandpa. He was there for me. He made me laugh. He tried to share his vast knowledge with me. And until his final days he was strong. And for that, I am always grateful he was mine. 

About the last 6-7 years of his life, he was confined to the house and eventually put on oxygen as his legs swelled and his lungs slowly gave out. DON'T EVER tell me smoking doesn't cause health problems!! It was a slow death, but through it all, he stayed strong and loving and remained jolly. Maybe it was pride. But I don't think so. He was just full of life despite knowing his time was coming to an end. This strength in the face of such pain is a legacy that will live with me. 

Because of him, I know what determination and perseverence is. Because of him, I know I can do anything and should live my life while I have it to live. Because of him, I can also find in me the trait that will help me in this journey that I'm on. He continued living his life despite his circumstances and health problems. So I'm going to live mine, and get rid of my health problems while I am still young. I want my weight loss to forever be a legacy within his legacy.