In the early morning hours as the smell of rain trickles down in my house the familiarity of the smell brings be back to my childhood years growing up in a small farming community. Each morning, rain or shine, during the summer, we were "blessed" with the chance to work. By work, we meant picking veggies, helping customers carry out purchased products from the fruit market, washing fruit, stacking boxes; anything but playing with our friends. Work is what taught me who I am today, but most importantly is who taught me to work.
Recently I just lost of my closet most trusted and respected man I know, my grandfather. He was more than just a normal grandfather; he was a teacher, a leader, and most importantly the person that truly taught me how to make it in this life. His life story most would say is a storybook love. He married the girl he protected all of his childhood life, gave up being a basketball star, going into the navy, and being a lawyer just to be with the person.
When he had nothing, he started something; just to show his love to her he worked. All his life, that something turned into a work of love, and a legacy that will be passed down to generations to come. He did what always said he would do, and that was to love & protect her till death does them apart.
His love to her, and to his entire legacy was work. It was that in which was taught to all of us.
I would not call his life a storybook love, but I would call it an eternal love. A man so willing to give all that he had to love, teach, and protect all those around him for years to come
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