Several years ago, someone told me that Grandpa was not my "real" grandfather.
Looking back now, I know that was not true. Grandpa was one thing in my life that was, in fact, very, very real.
My grandfather embodied all things constant: consistency, reliability, and unconditional love. I could always depend on him to be there for me: as a child, a young woman, and an adult.
So now I ask myself and all of you to help me define what is "real?" I believe you will come to understand it as I have: "real" is something or someone we can touch; something we can feel.
My grandfather was a man I could trust, a man I could admire, and a man who stood up for what he believed in. My grandfather was, in fact, a man that was so real that he could single-handedly turn dreams into realities.
When I was little, I used to go to my grandparent's when I was too sick to go to school. Grandma would load me up with tea and cheese and Grandpa would load me up with Vitamin C.
As I got older, he continued to care for me. When I was hungry, he sent me food; when I was cold, he sent me clothing. When I was sick, he sent me more vitamins!
When I was scared, he gave me courage; when I was lonely, he gave me shelter; when I was sad, he gave me hope.
He was a man of action, a man of honor, and a man of truth. But most of all, he was a man of integrity. He was a man who exemplified all things wonderful that life had to offer.
He was generous beyond reason and he gave me those things in life money simply cannot buy: he gave me roots, he gave me foundations, and most importantly, he gave me wings.
Rest in peace, Grandpa. You were loved.
Relatively speaking: What is "real?"
Does DNA alone define who you are? Where you came from? A relationship?
Blood is not always thicker than water.
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