In My Son Is Where My Grandfather Lives On
I had great man as a grandfather. He was an artist, and a veteran at the same time a member of the freemason. He does not talk too much, he was stern, but also loving and kind. When I was still 10 years old, my grandfather passed away but I still have memories on every little thing about him, I can remember my grandfather used to wear large eyeglasses and all his facial details when I close my eyes. I can still remember how my grandfather laughed.
I lived just a few blocks away from where my grandparents used to live. When I was young, we often visit my grandparents usually during special occasions. My grandfather’s station wagon would usually be parked away from their driveway just to make space for the tables and chairs. Up until now, I can still remember how those navy leather seats smell and how the soft material feels. The car used to have dark wooden panels and it would always remind me of the wooden dresser I have in my bedroom. The station wagon was quite big. Because of its size, my grandfather would usually refer to his car as his “boat”.
I can remember my grandfather having a magical garden. The garden had perfectly line stones, I used to play on the garden pretending that I was a princess. My grandfather would observe while I play on his garden. My grandfather would be sitting on a white chair near a table. He would be observing the neighborhood while smoking a cigarette. I remember my grandfather having dirty nails and rough hands.
I remember him being a talented artist. He would draw beautiful black and white pictures of women. My favorite of his art works was a picture with thousands of various dots.
My grandfather was excellent with a scroll saw as he was an expert with a paper and pen. During the time, I usually did not appreciate degree of his work, but today I have many of his works visible in my home. Back then I was not interested on his woodworks but right now I’m having interests on doing scroll saw reviews of his past works. I would close my eyes as I run my hand on the top of a small table he made. There are details on the table that would remind me of my grandfather’s old station wagon.
My grandfather was not able to meet my son. They would instantly be close to each other. My grandfather had a very good sense of humor. My son has the same sense of humor as my grandfather. He would make people smile just like my grandfather.
Even though my son did not have the same artistic talents as my grandfather, he still is fascinated by arts. Me and my son would paint almost everyday.