There are days when I sit and ponder what my life will be like in five, ten, and fifteen years. I dream of milestones crossed as I get married, have babies and build a life for my family. And as these thoughts come to mind, so comes the pain and sadness of knowing that my grandfather will never get the chance to share with me in the joys of those moments.

Granddad was an unlikely suspect for grandfather material. Rough and sometimes scary on the outside, he spent his life working hard to provide for his family. He served his country as a Marine, the proudest of proud, during World War II. He fought with courage and returned home with amazing stories of survival and victory. He brought with him artifacts like his helmet that proved his defeat of death and he would, later in his life, share his story with anyone willing to listen.

As a child, I visited him weekly and we would play games like "See Saw" and tether-ball. I have vivid memories of him hugging me as tightly as possible every time we met and every time we parted. He called me 'sweetheart' constantly to the point that I actually thing that he thought it was my name. He was one the few people, that I could remember, to ever call me beautiful, even in the face of my self doubt. In fact, he was the first.

As I grew older, I took for granted these moments shared between a loving Grandfather and his granddaughter. And it is only in recent years that I have realized what I have missed. Granddad passed away several years ago from lung cancer, and with him my opportunities to revel in his love and listen to his stories and to be the best granddaughter to him that I can be. But I will take every opportunity to pass on the lessons that he taught, the love that he shared, and the honor of his name so that his memory will live on forever in me and in those with whom his life is shared...

Learn more about this author, Crystal Garrett.
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