A Closed

We are a divided clan, in many ways, but primarily geographically.

And while I am grateful for the adventures that my four blessings have each had in life, there is undoubtedly a loss in communication,

The minutiae of life we share becomes vague despite the joy of visits, both internet and physical, as well as our constant and lengthy telephone conversations,

And I wonder, often, about so many things, and try to dismiss then as intrusive. Why waste the precious moments of communication with negativity or mundane inconveniences or so I think. And so we keep the tone of communication light by my choice.

Then on Sunday my visitor arrives, and he brings more than his presence. He brings back memories of others who once shared my doorstep.

He is, undoubtedly, a descendant of his grandfather and physically evokes not only his Dad, but two uncles in appearance. Yet in so many other ways, he is so much more than that.

Will has the gentle presence of the paternal great grandfather who neither his father, uncles or aunt ever had the privilege of knowing.

He also shares the integrity of his own grandfather both in speech and character. In a meticulously courteous way he is rigid about being honest when expressing both opinion and beliefs.

Although undoubtedly Will shares the charisma primarily of his Dad, and also, his uncles, his smile evokes only one. That is his beloved and never forgotten “Grandpa Art,” who ever remains a constant presence in his conversations.

And while there is often a guarded reluctance to admit others into my Grandson’s world, when you are allowed entrance, it is an experience to be savored.

And one he shares on the seventh day of each week, as he arrives and closes the door to loneliness.