a phone call that couldn’t happen (or: i miss my grampa)

September 5, 2010

me: hey grampa, it’s beth! how’s it goin?
grampa: hey honey. right good. right good. how you?
me: well, i went sailing today for the first time this summer, and my friend, paul, let me steer the boat! must be something about the name “paul” that makes a good sailor (my grampa’s name was paul)!
grampa: how’d you do?
me: well, if it’s anything like my golf game…
grampa: ha ha
me: i didn’t kill anyone or hit any boats. but i was amazed they let me steer, even though my first move was to nearly get crushed between the motor boat and the huge sailboat as i attempted to climb aboard.
grampa: ha ha
me: i’m serious, grampa! the waves were insane, and the boat was rocking, and i was trying to hold on to the boat. everyone else let go, and the motor boat drifted back. i just kept holding on–i can be stubborn sometimes– and ended up dangling from the sailboat until my friends could pull me back on. it was quite the rough start!
grampa: he he he.
me: what was your favorite sailing memory, gramps?
grampa: (i can’t even predict the answer, as i honestly don’t know. my grampa died exactly two weeks ago, before i ever asked him. i learned recently how much he loved to sail as i looked through his old photographs and read his “life history.” he apparently volunteered at the marina so that he could go sailing whenever he wanted. he would have loved today. i can, however, predict the rest of the conversation…)
grampa: thanks for calling sweetie.
me: yep! talk to you later! love you grampa!
grampa: love you, sweetie.

man, i miss him.

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