We all have the potential to be anything in life— it is our decisions, the people around us, and their decisions, that shape our destinies.
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His hands were thick and padded— calloused from years of abuse. The skin was tough and worn, tinted gray from all the deep, black, oily tracks running through the lines of his skin. To my young nose, the machine shop always smelled musty, and oily, and unpleasant; but my grandfather always seemed to enjoy it. He’d whistle to Elvis or Johnny Cash while I swept the floors. Occasionally he’d pull me away to show me the depression force of the drill for a titanium piece with a carbide bit, or an aluminum piece with a diamond-edged bit. I was always fascinated by the milling machines programmed 3D machining, and it always made him happy to teach me something new
I think, because deep down he was and always will be a young boy at heart: and, I think deep down, I was a 1000 years old man when I was five.
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Sometime it’s difficult for generation gaps to be bridged. One party has to find a way to connect with the other. When it’s within family, it can be easier for some and harder for others to do this— with my grandfather and I, it was very easy. I think, because deep down he was and always will be a young boy at heart: and, I think deep down, I was a 1000 years old man when I was five. He used to call me smiley, because of how much I smiled as a boy. Nothing got me down, and when I say nothing, I mean that I had two raging alcoholic parents who were very abusive and not even they dampened my spirits. I couldn’t have cared less about them. They would go bananas, I would wait for their tirade to end, and then I would just leave the house. I had safety in nature— I still do.
I spent considerable time with my grandfather when I was young. He was a sketch artist as well. Starting from when I was about four, he showed me how to draw Disney characters. He might as well have worked for Disney with the level of skill he possessed (and still does). For hours he’d let me scribble with my pencil and I would be hard-pressed to get up even once. I learned how to draw and it became both a passion and creative outlet for me.
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I used to accompany him on his many “trips” throughout the years. Most of these required us to wake up between 3 and 5am on the weekends and drive for several hours. He at the time only had an old diesel van, and that made for cold mornings and loud drives. Any time there was a car show, an auction, an antique show, or a flea market in New England, we were there.
He said that above everything, I understood the value of peace above all else, and that I’d live my life trying to help people long before and beyond ever trying to hurt them.
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I would get just as lost in the items as my grandfather— though we were always looking for different things. No matter where we were, I always looked for the coolest weapons and armor I could find. I was in love with medieval artifacts and with the idea of knights (I think most boys are). I was in love even more with the ideal of being a knight, and my grandfather knew that.
He was a great man. For his entire life he battled with severe depression. Several attempts at suicide as a single man and again as a father put him in dark place after dark place. He struggled to find a meaning for himself, or even just a way to be happy. But he never gave up. It’s because of him that I turned out so well. It’s because of him that the darkness of my family didn’t leak into my life. It’s because of him that I stayed vigilant and believed in truth and goodness. It’s because of him that I didn’t give up on anyone or myself— it’s because of him that I found the strength to beat my depression.
When I was growing up, my grandfather used to call me many things, but one thing in particular stuck with me. I had a knack for always knowing what was deeply wrong with a situation: someone’s feelings, why a problem was unsolved, how something was working— I’ve always been good at solving puzzles. My grandfather saw this in me— my ability to heal, and he used to call me the Doctor [And he’d never seen an episode of Doctor Who in his life,( and I hadn’t either until my earlier twenties)]. He said that above everything, I understood the value of peace above all else, and that I’d live my life trying to help people long before and beyond ever trying to hurt them.
And he was right.
How did my grandfather change my life? He kept the crippling darkness of my parents away from me. He kept me from being consumed by it and becoming it. He showed me the light, that it exists, and that if I want it, I just have to go get it.
We all have the potential to be anything in life— it is our decisions, the people around us, and their decisions, that shape our destinies.
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Flickr:/ greg westfall
Great story. Your grandfather saved your soul. 55 years ago my machinist coal miner grandfather literally saved my life. I was 5 and jumping around being goofy showing off for grandma and grandpa. Grandpa told me to cut it out as I was probably disrupting either Bonanza or Gunsmoke on his new 25 in color tv that probably cost him about 4000 dollars in 1962. Jumping around with a peppermint hard candy round in my mouth. Anyway, you can guess the rest. Candy lodged sideways in my throat and blocked the air completely. Stopped me dead in my tracks. The… Read more »