Seven Again

This past weekend I was at a birthday party for one of my daughter’s friends and it got me to thinking. What was the best birthday gift you ever received? For me, that’s an easy one.

It was the summer before I turned seven when my grandfather took me into his attic. As we climbed the stairs, the room came alive to me. My eyes lit up as I scanned the room, there were treasures to be found everywhere. Then off in one corner I saw a bunch of old dusty deer antlers hanging from the rafters. My grandfather proudly explained how he had acquired the antlers. I listened intently to his every word as he told me his stories. It was a moment I won’t forget.

Before I knew it, summer was gone and fall arrived bringing my birthday with it. Though it’s been years, I can still remember the smile on my grandfather’s face when I opened his gift. There inside the box were those dusty antlers, now beautifully mounted and shined on a wooden plaque. Better than the gift was how special it made me feel. My grandfather had given me more than a birthday gift; he had given me something of his, something he prized, and with it a little bit of himself.

To say I loved the man would be an understatement. I admired him for many reasons, but most of all because of how I felt when I was with him. He always seemed to find time for me and always believed in me. It is a privilege to have his blood flow through my veins.

Every now and then when I am in my daughter’s room, off in the corner I can see those dusty antlers on a shelf. And perhaps, for just a moment, I am seven again.

“Nobody can do for little children what grandparents do. Grandparents sort of sprinkle stardust over the lives of little children.” ~Alex Haley

Swavel