Since I have a fair amount of free time on my hands, it seemed obvious that when my grandpa needed help moving, I’d be an excellent candidate. He’s leaving the actual heavy lifting to the professionals, but the packing – that’s all me.
My grandma passed away 10 years ago, and my grandpa has been doing a good job of living independently since then. For a guy who was born in 1922, he’s still pretty sharp and he’s darn funny.
I’ve been packing the strangest things. I think there’s something about having lived through the Great Depression that has left a generation of people who save everything just in case it might come in handy in 2011. I’m not allowed to throw these things away. On Monday he wrestled a piece of cardboard away from me as I was headed for the trashbag. “Wait! I can use that!” Needless to say, I acquiesced immediately. Few things are less fun than wrestling with an 86-year-old man.
As I was trying to organize and pack yet another “miscellaneous drawer”, I found an empty paper-towel tube. Bearing in mind the cardboard experience, I looked it over carefully. On the outside was written, “Head of Christ”.
Yes, imagine my surprise.
Unfortunately, the tube was empty. I went through the rest of the drawer looking for His Head. Nothing! Knowing I couldn’t just throw it away, I had to say these dreaded seven words:
“Grandpa, I lost the head of Christ.”
Did I mention he’s a bit hard of hearing?
“WHATTTT????” he asked. Now, I can’t tell if this is shock at what I’ve said, or just that he didn’t hear it.
“Grandpa, I lost THE HEAD OF CHRIST!” I yelled. This time I showed him the empty tube, looking through the vast interior that did not contain His, or any, head.
“The WHATTT???” he asked, again. Then the lightbulb came on, almost as blinding as if His Head had actually appeared.
“OH! That was for the prints of my drawing,” he said, pointing toward the portrait of Jesus on the wall. My grandpa is an artist, and had made a portrait of Jesus that had become popular among his friends, so several of His Heads were copied and placed in the relative safety and protection of a paper towel tube, because where else would you put His Head?
That crisis averted, I continued on to assist with labeling the glass-doored cabinets with tags that read, “Empty”. Because one can never be too sure.
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