Letters To My Sons | December

Dear boys,

You are thrilled to be spending Thanksgiving AND Christmas with Pow Pow this year, our family’s true Christmas miracle. All you have to do is reread your April letter to see how far he’s come in just nine months. Back to the time you faced a harrowing reality, Would he recover from his stroke, and if so, would he be the same grandfather you’ve known and loved all these years? You weren’t able to go inside the hospital due to Covid protocol, so instead, you stood in front of his window, waving and talking by way of Daddy’s cellphone. I could see the concern and fear in your eyes as you saw how frail he looked. But now, by the grace of God and power of prayer, he stands tall, flanked by his youngest grandsons, without even the assistance of a cane. And everything you love about him — his twinkly eyes, big belly hugs, hearty laugh and thunderous sneeze, and most importantly, his memories of you — all remain intact.

Pow Pow has always been an influential force in your lives, especially for you Cash. Your respect for him is so great and his opinion of you matters so much. So much, in fact, that when you got a little too big for your britches recently, I called on him to intercede. I knew a video chat with Pow Pow was the one consequence that would be most impactful in addressing your impudence. At first you shrugged it off, “That’s fine. I don’t mind.” But as the scheduled Zoom was fast approaching, you started to get nervous, pacing and rehearsing what you were going to say. “Do you think Pow Pow is going to yell at me? Think less of me?”, you asked worriedly. “That’s not his style Cash, you know that. He’s going to receive you with love like he always does: ‘Hiiii Cash, it’s nice to see you. How’s everything going?’” Still, I told you to be upfront about what you did; you weren’t to wait for him to draw it out of you.

Since you delivered a heartfelt apology earlier in the day, I had told Pow Pow the Zoom needn’t be long; twenty minutes was fine. And that’s just how long it was before you came out of the room, softened by the relief that it was over. “It wasn’t so bad … He told me that I have the greatest mother in the world, who’s always gonna look out for me, who always wants the best for me … but sometimes there’ll be things I don’t like — and that’s just part of life. Then he said that you grew up with a mother who’d always say, ‘If anyone’s going to be unhappy, it’s NOT gonna be ME!’”

Pow Pow would tell me later that after you greeted him, you began explaining what you had done. “I’ve got to give him credit,” Pow Pow said, “he didn’t hesitate. He jumped right in to tell me what happened. I was impressed by that.”

While not doing attitude-adjustment Zooms with Pow Pow (at least not yet), what mattered most to you Grey, was that he join us for everything on our holiday itinerary. “I only want to do the Escape Room if Pow Pow is doing it … Is he doing laser tag with us? … I want Pow Pow to do the sloth encounter! … Is he going to the movies to watch ‘Sing 2’ with us?”

This Christmas, as I look back on this challenging year, I’m most thankful for YOUR grandfather’s full recovery — “Miracle Man” you like to call him. In fact, these past couple visits, wherever we went you’d spontaneously serenade him with: “Miracle Man, Miracle Man, if he can’t do it, nobody can!”

It has been said that grandfathers bring a little wisdom, happiness, warmth and love to every life they touch. They are the magicians who create wonderful memories for their grandchildren. And it is through God’s mercy you have been given the greatest Christmas gift of all this year: More time with yours. Hopefully many years of creating memories, completing jam-packed itineraries, and yes, even tenderhearted life advisories with your beloved Pow Pow.

Merry Christmas.

I love you.

Always and forever, Mom