The Goodness of Grandpa

My 79 year old Grandpa Lensmire was sadly, recently, diagnosed with a very aggressive form of Leukemia. He has chosen a very aggressive treatment. I am so sad to think of my Grandpa enduring pain in the weeks and months of treatment ahead, with no guaranteed outcome.

I say this, knowing I have already received more than my share when it comes to Grandparents, Great Grandparents, In Law Grandparents, Step Grandparents, and even, specifically, Grandpa's. I know I have no bargaining power left, and the inevitable of all these folks that have been gifted to me, is something... I will... someday... have to accept. This diagnosis reminds me of my Grandpa Herwig who passed away when I was in middle school (years and years ago). Has it really been that long? Lord, I miss him! His memory lives in me with each passing day. Losing him was the hardest, saddest, moment in my young life. I was so young and self centered, I thought Grandpa Herwig's only purpose on this earth was to be my beloved Grandpa. You see, I was born in a very sacred position, I was Grandpa Herwig's first Granddaughter after 3 Grandsons. I lived in the same town as Grandpa H. I believed his moon and sun and earth revolved around me.

I felt the same amount of affection towards him.

Now that I am a grown up (and still so self centered, just not as young), I am faced with my Grandpa Lensmire's illness. I feel a whole new range of emotions. Grandpa Lensmire is and has always been a Most Wonderful Grandpa. The difference this time is, I see him as a whole person, (and not only my Grandpa). In addition to being my (and perhaps about about 17 other cousin's not to mention their spouses') Grandpa Lensmire, he is is also a teacher's son and a father of seven. A husband and a brother. He is an uncle and a neighbor. He is a cheesemaker, a boss, Grandma's square-dancing partner, a wise SheepsHead player, a Prom King, a wood worker and dollhouse maker, a mo-ped driver, a Master Gardener, and an athlete who, I think, (and Grandma might agree) makes a great cowboy. He is not ONLY MY Grandpa. I KNOW this. I know this because I am 34 years old and not 11. I know this because I am someone's mother, who is also other things. That makes, this moment, perhaps even a more difficult moment for me. To know bits and pieces of someone to whom you love, who is human and whole. A person, like yourself, not all good, or a mythical legend, but a real person. A real person that you love so dearly. And there might not be any bigger words to write than that.

Well... I just ask any and all of you reading this to keep him and my family in your prayers as we move along on this new and unfamiliar territory we are charting. We are a family that is so good at laughing so loud. We are so good about finding the humor in just about anything. We joke about death, forgive us. We do. The giggles just keep it safe for us. I think we have been and will continue to do just fine rallying around our partiarch. I think we can also use any thoughts of strength you have to share.