Nearly every family has favourite stories that get retold over and over. My Dad, ( Gramps) has a collection of anecdotes about his beloved Grandsons that he constantly repeats to anybody that will listen. One of his favourite stories tells of when he asked one of them to spell the word ‘to’, (too, two). He then chortles and says, “He got a high distinction in a spelling exam and yet it took him three goes to spell that simple word!” Both my boys were high achievers in their school years and while their Dad and I were extremely proud of their results, it was Gramps who would share it with the world. It’s a sad unwritten rule in our society that parents are not allowed to brag; I believe parenting is a tough job, so why can’t you take a victory lap every now and then? Another well told story is the time many years ago when Gramps asked the boys how their exams had gone. They had jokingly replied their results were disastrous, 96% and 98% respectively. Gramps found that hilarious, and from that day forward it became the standard line he used when talking about results. Another disaster, he would say when hearing any of their exploits. Or “Lets hope for another disaster boys”, with a cheeky wink. Whilst at times his recounting of anecdotes is painfully embarrassing both for me and the boys, we bite our tongues because we know he brags as a result of his pride and love for us. And the way we look at it, at the age of 93, nearly 94, he’s definitely earned “bragging rights” and we love him fiercely too.
“A Grandfather is someone you can look up to no matter how tall you grow.”