Member-only story
The Sweet Taste of Summer
There’s Nothing Like Watermelons Floating in a Swimming Pool
One of my first memories of my grandfather is of him lecturing my mother. He was urging her to be a more active engaged parent. He was telling her she was missing it.
My mother screeched in reply, “I don’t know what you want me to do, Bruce?”
“Bruce … Bruce … Bruce.”
Grandpa wasn’t my mom’s dad? I didn’t understand. He took such good care of us. I loved him so much.
It took me years to put these pieces together.
My dad had sent my mother, brother, and me home from Athens, Greece several years back.
Grandpa Bruce and Grandma Barbara had taken us in, bought a larger house to accommodate all of us, and given us an incredible life.
It was strange to me that a man with no blood ties to a young family would do all these things. It was an act of love that defied conventional bonds.
After my mom yelled at him and stomped away, Grandpa took my small hand in his and took me out back with him. He had a knack for turning everyday moments into adventures. Always with a mischievous grin and a twinkle in his eyes, he said, “Let’s see what we can get up to!”
