by CJKRDG

Created on: April 06, 2007   Last Updated: October 31, 2008

Always treasure the memories.

I have been blessed with a wonderful family from my parents, to my sister, to extended family and of course my grandparents. I had a wonderful grandfather who was affectionately known as poppa. It seemed quite natural growing up, to have all of my grandparents living in the same city. It was commonplace to not only spend holidays with my grandparents, but to also have Sunday dinners together, regular nights of babysitting together and special jaunts for ice cream cones in between.

My poppa and I shared a very special bond. It was one of those unspoken bonds that everyone around us could sense. We both treasured all the times we were able to spend together. Family meant everything to poppa. I remember how he could play the harmonica like nobody's business (a talent that seems to have skipped my generation!)and yodel as well as anyone at the Grand Ole Opry! I used to listen to him with such contentment and awe.

As we both grew older, our more active activities like badminton, were replaced by meaningful discussions by the fireplace. We'd find our usual place on the couch and quietly talk together. I actually cannot remember what we talked about specifically. I can, however, remember how comfortable and happy I felt during our talks.

Almost 6yrs ago to the day, we shared our last meaningful exchange. My dearest poppa had died. It was the most difficult day of my life. I just couldn't fathom a life without him in it. A life without his sparkling blue eyes and gentle manner seemed unbearable. Miraculously, life did go on, although even today, I still shed a tear or two when I think about poppa. He was such a special light in my life.

Two years ago, my grandmother (known as nana), moved out of the home she and poppa had shared and moved into a retirement community. It was a difficult decision to make for her, as it marked an end of an era. However, she believed that it was the best thing for her to do since she would now have lots of her friends around her, rather than sitting alone in that empty house. Moving day was full of lots of emotion. There were lots of memories wrapped up in nana's old knickknacks and pictures. During one trip from the moving van into the new apartment, my sister and I were struck by a miraculous sound.

Out of nowhere, we heard a beautiful melody coming from none other than the harmonica.

We could not believe our ears. We stood there on the street listening to the sweet melody coming from the harmonica, hugging each other while silent tears fell softly down our cheeks. The harmonica was being played with the same enthusiasm and heart that poppa had played with all those years before. We couldn't understand exactly where the music was coming from, but we didn't care. It was coming from poppa. Poppa was smiling down on us, giving us his blessing. He was there.

I will always miss that wonderful man, but I will always treasure the memories. Thank you poppa for all that you have brought to my life. I will remember you with a smile; especially when I hear the harmonica.

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