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My all time hero will always and forever be my Grandfather, God rest his soul. He knew everything. He could do everything from fix a sputtering car engine to plant and successfully grow the most varied vegetable garden I've ever seen. He was quiet, he was loud. He was sober and serious, he was boisterous and made you laugh until you cried. A study in contradictions, this man. And I was fascinated by him.

He was a proud parent of twins in the 50's, when men were 'hands off' parents. But not my Grandpa. My Grandma still talks of how grateful she was when Grandpa would come home from working a full day, and help her with the twins. The carpet in the nursery was worn out in not one, but two places from two rocking chairs lulling fussy babies to sleep simultaneously. He worked hard, and often worked two jobs to support his growing family. He worked in a factory, he was a Fuller brush man, he dabbled in real estate.

I think part of my fascination with him was that he was always coming up with new ideas to make life interesting. He was an avid sportsman, and in his retirement he bred hunting dogs. He loved to farm, and had an ever rotating supply of livestock ranging from horses to cattle to homing pigeons. And he could tell you anything you wanted to know about any of these creatures.

He was proud of his family, and especially his seven Grandchildren. We'd all sit down to a Sunday pot roast, and one of us Grandchildren would say grace. I'll never be as proud as I was when it would be my turn to say the grace, and he'd say to me with a wink, "That's a big girl". Just the thought of never hearing those words again brings a tear to my eye.

As he aged, Alzheimer's disease crept it's ugly way into my dear Grandfathers mind. I was known as "The lady with all the kids", even though I only had two little ones. As the disease took its' toll, my little boys, then one year and two years old, were the only people who could really connect with Grandpa. I like to think it's because both he and they had no words, and had no need for them. The only time he smiled in the later days was when my boys were there handing him a toy to play with, or giggling as only a toddler can when he sung to them or playfully tickled them.

It has been nine years since he passed, and I still miss him every day. So often I'll be having an automotive breakdown, or something with my house falls apart. As a single woman with no handyman nearby, I find myself reaching for the phone to call him for his advice or to ask him to come over and fix the leaky plumbing. And then it hits me. He's gone, and I'll have to figure it out on my own.

I wish he could see all of his Great Grandchildren, some of whom are in their twenties now, and making a life for themselves. I wish he knew how much his presence is missed. I wish he knew what an impact he made on all of us, the family of which he was so proud. I wish he knew that part of the reason I remain single is because of the standard he set, and showed me what the measure of a man really is. I wish he could see my boys now. I'm so proud of them and how they are turning out, and I wish he could, for one quick moment in time, spend an afternoon with them. Maybe take them fishing like he did me when I was a girl. Oh, how my boys would cherish that!

He would not have been happy that I've had to raise these boys alone, but I think he'd be happy at how we've turned out and are making the best of it, in fact we're thriving. I can only hope he'd look at me, and with a wink, say "That's a big girl".

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