So Thoughtful

A million trillion quadrillion times over I am so in love with the thoughtful nature that HH musters up when I least expect. While on TDY to God's country (OK..so some of you may have other parts of the world that you consider God's country, but for me, I see the gateway being somewhere along the rugged Rocky mountains and extending up into Wyoming and into the reaches of Montana) he finished his meeting much earlier than planned. What does he choose to do with the time? Drive clear across Denver to where my grandparents are buried. This may not seem like a big deal, but it is to me. Especially, when he calls me and asks me who he thinks he's sitting and having a wonderful time with.

"Uhhhh...ummmmm...my Uncle?"
"Nope."
"Errrr...my best friend?"
"Nope."
"Gee, honey, I don't know. Some cool reservist who is ensuring that you fall in love with the notion of retiring there?"
"Retirement would be good for us here...according to your...Grandpa."
Dead silence.

"Did you hear me?"
More dead silence.
I fight back tears.

I can picture the white gravestones all neatly laid out along the green lawn with the Colorado blue sky making a phenomenal contrast to the green of the pine trees and the white of the headstones. I can feel the roughness of the stone where the details of my grandma's name, birth, and death were etched in lettering that no matter how hard I have wanted to take that her death and make it anything other than the month after I was born, could never be changed.

What I can not see is that of my grandpa's side.

I never got to make it to his funeral.

The man who inspired, cheered, and who I can still feel the roughness of his hands in mine as I begged him to not ever leave me days before he died. I can still remember feeling his face, the character lines around his mouth and happy lines around his mouth. The silkiness of the curls in his hair. My grandpa meant the world to me. There are only two other men that can even hold a candle to the love I have for my grandpa.

As I snuggled up to him, I can recall him saying that he would never leave, he'd only be in a different spot. I'd always know he was there. His words gave me comfort, but it was the fact he wouldn't be touchable. I've been through seven years of not touching him. However, he has kept his promise to me; I can sense him. I can see him in the mannerisms and smile of HS. I can witness that special wink when LD crinkles her nose after saying something witty. He's here always. He speaks to me through the rainbows or the rush of the tradewinds through the trees as I fret over putting to much on my plate. He calms me. He called out to HH as he got into the rental car that Friday afternoon.

It wasn't until HH made it to the cemetery that he was able to truly express why it was that he was standing there. He stood proudly in uniform in front of the stone. He Expressed how much we missed him. How great the kids are and how much he thinks that grandpa would enjoy teaching HS how to fish and LD to make the trademark campin' biscuits. How when I get worked up or excited about something, a grandpaism will fly out of my mouth causing those around me to wonder what I said, while HH glows because he knows that I have to hold onto the phrases that I had grown up hearing. He knew that Grandpa could see us living our life, but there aren't many days that we don't wish we could see him. He then took a step back and saluted.

"Honey, would you like to say hello? I've chatted with him for a while now..."
Silence.
I took at deep breath and couldn't control the emotion and tears.
"Of course I do....
I am so thankful that you spoke to HH today....because...Grandpa...I have so missed you. I love you."