This post is dedicated to my fraternal grandfather, Charles Leroy Alexander,who passed away in 1980. My last meaningful conversation with Pop-pa was while we were riding bikes along the lake front in St. Cloud, Florida, about a year before he passed away. Pop-pa talked about how he had always wanted to take a cruise, as we looked out across the water. But, Mom-ma could not swim and water was not something that she wanted to be surrounded with. I told my Pop-pa that if he really wanted to take a cruise that maybe we could persuade Mom-ma to go and try to get over her fears, and he said, "Linda Jo, the ticker is not what she used to be....and I'm living on borrowed time." We did not say much else, as we pedaled our bikes back to the house, and tears were clouding my eyes because I knew that he had suffered heart attacks, and he had refused to have evasive surgery done that was not all that proven in the early 80's. I was happy that I had flown from Kentucky with my thirteen month old son, in order that his great-grandparents could see him, but I knew that this would be the only time that my son would ever see his great-grandpa. My grandfather enlightened me to the fact that life is indeed only borrowed on this earth, as we know it. When my hour glass runs out, I pray that I have completed much of my unfinished business. God bless.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
WE ARE ALL LIVING ON BORROWED TIME
This post is dedicated to my fraternal grandfather, Charles Leroy Alexander,who passed away in 1980. My last meaningful conversation with Pop-pa was while we were riding bikes along the lake front in St. Cloud, Florida, about a year before he passed away. Pop-pa talked about how he had always wanted to take a cruise, as we looked out across the water. But, Mom-ma could not swim and water was not something that she wanted to be surrounded with. I told my Pop-pa that if he really wanted to take a cruise that maybe we could persuade Mom-ma to go and try to get over her fears, and he said, "Linda Jo, the ticker is not what she used to be....and I'm living on borrowed time." We did not say much else, as we pedaled our bikes back to the house, and tears were clouding my eyes because I knew that he had suffered heart attacks, and he had refused to have evasive surgery done that was not all that proven in the early 80's. I was happy that I had flown from Kentucky with my thirteen month old son, in order that his great-grandparents could see him, but I knew that this would be the only time that my son would ever see his great-grandpa. My grandfather enlightened me to the fact that life is indeed only borrowed on this earth, as we know it. When my hour glass runs out, I pray that I have completed much of my unfinished business. God bless.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment