Dear Grandpop,
When I try to describe you to other people, the way that you speak comes to mind right away. You choose your words with care, you pause instead of filling the silence when you need to think, and by the time you’ve made your point, it becomes clear that a narrative arc has been building all along. I usually tell my friends that you are a natural storyteller, and that it’s easy to tell that you are a teacher by talking with you.
The first time I visited Bloomington, you were my tour guide. Your recollections of that place were planted in my mind, too, forming a memory overlay that still meshes with my own experience there. Walking by the music school thinking of your time spent in the practice building and trying to pick out Missy’s father’s old house just off campus come to mind.
You have calmly nudged me in the right direction at a time in my life when I needed to work on forgiveness and discretion, and forgiven me for the choices I made during that time. Your advice is always concise and memorable. One of my favorite Grandpop lessons was passed down from an earlier generation, nested within a story of another mentor. I can’t tell you how many times your voice has come back to me: “self-praise is no recommendation.” You practice what you preach.
Thank you for always being willing to share your wisdom and your good company. I’m so happy we are family!
Love,
Caela