Yesterday my mind was roaming back to when I was just a little girl and my relationship with my grandfather. I called him "Gran". I was sitting outside on a bench under the trees on my lunch break. There was a nice breeze hitting my face and I don't know why, but I was reliving the few years I was with him and the relationship we had. It was the most wonderful time and I was feeling the happiness I felt when he sat me on his lap and spoke to me. I could once again feel the love he had for me, and I for him. He would talk to me or sing to me from outside my window at night when I was in bed. He lived next door. Every evening when he arrived home from work he would call me. He'd yell "Cookie I'm home", and I would go running to his open arms. He let me put shaving cream on his face and shave him, without the razor of couse. I painted his fingernails. I'd sit one his lap at the dinner table and he'd feed me cornbread he had dunked in milk.
He was a wonderful, loving, family man who left me when I was very young. But what he left me with was a feeling that I cannot explain. I still carry a little leather change purse he gave me when I was 5 years old, with me at all times. He showed me love, a passion for life and the desire to be good. One thing I know for sure, is that he has always been with me, watching over me and making sure I am alright. He's in my soul. I loved that man with all of my heart, and I always will.
I Wish You Love Like My Gran Gave To Me,