Day sixteen, catching up

I have such a wonderful family. I am inspired by them and their memories every day - from the way my Grandma Humphrey made you feel like the most special and loved person in the world, to the way my mother looked on her wedding day with nothing to aid her stunning beauty but short, blow-dried hair and mascara.

This is the living patriarch of the family I love so well.

My Grandpa Humphrey. His presence in my life has made me a better person. He is my father's father but my mother has always called him "Dad" and he has always praised her to us girls, especially her brains. I definitely would have taken my mother's intelligence more for granted if it wasn't for my grandpa. He is incredibly kind, but incredibly forthright, and I take his praise, of me or anyone, seriously. And it has been a great boon to my confidence, and my opinion of others. He doesn't speak badly of anyone, and he tends to think well of people.

And he loves his family so much.

He is also brilliant. And that is what is so impressive. How often is someone both the smartest person you know and the most kind? He is no simpleton doling out love and praise easily from the uninformed goodness of his heart. Tom is always floored by my grandpa, by his extensive knowledge on any subject that he can summon from his vast stores of knowledge much faster than we twenty-somethings could (if we had those vast stores). But maybe, even more, Tom is astonished at my grandpa's whole-hearted interest in talking about anything. Last time he visited it was work - Tom finds it hard to talk to anyone about his work. But Grandpa understood, he asked him very specific questions about very boring details, and they were both completely interested, and Tom left, once again, surprised by the man who has ceased to surprise me. That's just the way he is.

If I am surprised it is that he takes such an interest in me. He is a worldly and wise 80-some-year-old vet, law school grad, ex-business owner, who repairs tractors for fun and began, recently, volunteering to drive old folks around. I am just a silly and ignorant girl, bewildered and intimidated by men, who is far too interested in interior design and talking (or writing) until everybody's ears (and eyes) fall off. But he doesn't see me this way, he thinks that I am smart and beautiful and good and by doing that he makes me want to be smarter, more confident, and more good. And more loving to the rest of my family and anyone I may meet.

I saw for many years the way he loved my grandma and still does. She was so different from him but together they made something so perfect to me. Their house (paradise) was simple and functional because of him, and beautiful and warm because of her. He shuffles around it now in the clothes he's always worn: the polo shirts, short pants, Birkenstocks or boat shoes - yes, I even love his clothes.

He doesn't believe what I believe, but it doesn't stop him encouraging me in it, he encourages me in all good things. He inspires me to greater love.