Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Grandfather's Port Authority

By the shores of Gitche Gumee,
By the shining Big-Sea-Water,
Stood the wigwam of Nokomis,
Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis.
Dark behind it rose the forest,
Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees,
Rose the firs with cones upon them;
Bright before it beat the water,
Beat the clear and sunny water,
Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water.
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The Most Interesting Man In The World 
Last Mother's Day, my wonderful, kind, and subtly hilarious Grandfather launched his canoe off the shore of the Great Gitche Gumee, in search of his love, Jeannie Baby. 


My Grandfather believed in the best of people. He believed I was doing great and glorious things with my life. If I ever am down and need to rally, I still think of him. 
I will complete this task! 
I will do these things! 
I will honor my Grandfather, and my family!
I will dance with abandon and bring joy everywhere I travel!
It is difficult for me to not not shoot off an email in order to tell him of my feats or failures, or just simply share an image of a raven ka-cawing on a cliff side, or a flower blooming next to a bubbling cascade.


My Grandparents have been a powerful influence in my life.  Though I loved living out West, I knew that I needed to move closer to them, as they grew older.  There were far fewer openings in my field, to the East of the Mississippi, so it took a while for my transfer to go through. While I waited, Jeannie Baby, my sweet Nana, grew ill. I was snow bound, and unable to reach the one I knew as The Source of Unconditional Love, before she slipped away in the night. Until the week of his death, Gaga was unable to finish reading lyrics to her favorite song, Autumn Leaves.
But I'l miss you most of all, my Darling when autumn leaves, start to fall.
He wanted to be with her, but decided the world was too interesting for him to exit just yet: He had work to do!

My transfer went through in time for me to spend lots of time with Gaga. I am glad of this. We visited each other often. Because of him, my world started to include my family on many more levels. When he was on his way out, at almost age 98, he told us it was cigarettes that were cutting his life so short. It was indeed his lungs which gave out before his heart. When my brothers vowed to give up smoking, he delightedly told me that he was using his "secret death powers" to fix everything before he left. Gaga claimed to be a trickster.  He used his enigmatic mix of wit, charm and love, to form a deep cohesion within my family. My brothers are now my best friends, and my parents are each others. 


A bottle of his port still sits in my cupboard, half full. Why yes, I am an optimist!   I... miss him.  Last November, in a burst of sentimentality, I pulled out the bottle, with the intent to finish it, and say goodbye. The flavor had gone off, and I was crushed. Though I realized I was supposed to toss the liquid before it fermented further, I choose not too.  I drank one last slightly vinegary glass with his ghost, as I listened to a couple piano heavy songs (on repeat) and powered through week one of The Artist's Way. I had a productive night, getting back in touch with my creativity and lady like emotions.
"I hope you have your Jeannie Baby in that Canoe of yours, you rapscallion!"
 I then gently placed the bottle back into the cupboard which was clearly its home. 


I like to think that he still visits, and he knows how welcome he is, when he sees his bottle still waiting for him.  I assume the bottle of port, like my Grandfather, enjoys watching over the other, younger bottles of liquor, and occasionally dispensing wisdom, or teaching them limericks. My liquor cabinet is not just entertaining, it is entertained. 

So there my Grandfather's Port sits, making me smile,and sometimes cry, when I open my cupboard. 

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