Your grandfather sounded as important to you as mine was to me. My grandparents were more like my parents growing up, and without them my life would have been lost....all of my most precious memories are of them...and now, my children forge the same wonderful memories with my grandmother..who they affectionately refer to as ladybug.
Sound: of the cool lake water lapping against the hull of my grandfathers boat on a warm summer afternoon.
Taste: of my grandmothers poached eggs on toast...a grown up treat she always made special for me and my grandfather on cool mornings, camping at the lake, with a dash of salt and pepper.
Smell: a combination of the salt in the ocean air, sawdust and old spice...a combination i would catch a hint of often, on the pier where i would fish with my grandfather. for no reason, from time to time, i can smell that comforting combination that was only my grandfathers, and i know he is there, watching over me....
Touch: the slippery, soft, gelatin feeling of salmon eggs...all tucked into their glass gar....my grandfathers bait of choice when fishing the Mount Shasta Lakes for Trout...
Sight: my grandfather..."Mighty Joe Young"... lean, muscled and deeply tanned...bright blue eyes shinning like tiny azure oceans, with a hint of mischief always tucked behind them...standing tall on the dock, making ready to cast off the lines, on our way out to yet another treasured day of fishing the Northern Californian lakes....the way i will always remember him...
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Sound: of the cool lake water lapping against the hull of my grandfathers boat on a warm summer afternoon.
Taste: of my grandmothers poached eggs on toast...a grown up treat she always made special for me and my grandfather on cool mornings, camping at the lake, with a dash of salt and pepper.
Smell: a combination of the salt in the ocean air, sawdust and old spice...a combination i would catch a hint of often, on the pier where i would fish with my grandfather. for no reason, from time to time, i can smell that comforting combination that was only my grandfathers, and i know he is there, watching over me....
Touch: the slippery, soft, gelatin feeling of salmon eggs...all tucked into their glass gar....my grandfathers bait of choice when fishing the Mount Shasta Lakes for Trout...
Sight: my grandfather..."Mighty Joe Young"... lean, muscled and deeply tanned...bright blue eyes shinning like tiny azure oceans, with a hint of mischief always tucked behind them...standing tall on the dock, making ready to cast off the lines, on our way out to yet another treasured day of fishing the Northern Californian lakes....the way i will always remember him...