My father married, for his day, very late in life. It's not that he didn't believe in the institution of marriage, he wanted to get married and start a family and believed that families were divinely instituted of God. Unlike our own times, the belief that marriage was good and brought with it happiness was not a belief that was uncommon in his day and my father's desire to get married was very much like those of most other men at that time...and yet, he waited despite his deep desires to get married.
The main reason he waited was because he had medical issues which prevented him from having children and he felt it would be unfair to marry a woman without being able to give her any children. And so, he stopped dating.
He did, however, want to get married badly enough that he had endured several painful operations in several unsuccessful attempts to correct the problem which prevented him from having children. But none of the surgeries had worked, and so he had resigned himself to a what he felt would be a lonely life without a wife or family of his own.
But there was one time when he broke his rule about not dating because the date was arranged by one of his friends. And, because he didn't want to hurt his friend's feelings, he consented to the date. His friend must have known more about my father than he imagined because we all know these things never work out. But this time it did, and my father quickly fell in love with my mother.
My father explained his condition to my mother telling her that if she married him she would likely never have any children. My mother tried to help him understand that she loved him and wanted to marry him anyway, but my father, being who he was, found himself back in the surgeon's hands for one more painful attempt at a surgery which had failed multiple attempts in the past. Well obviously, since I'm here to relate this story, things went well enough with this last operation for me and five other children to arrive in my parents home.
Because of the sacrifices my parents made to bring us into the world I wish I could say that we were all angelic blessings from heaven, but we weren't. And we brought with us a host of all sorts of the varied problems of youth and trouble which inexperience and arrogance attract. It's not that we were particularly bad children, but we weren't exceptionally good either. So much so that we must have caused our parents to wonder, at times, if their desires to have children might have been misguided.
Anyway, getting back to my story, because of my father's medical issues, he married very late and because of this was often mistaken for our grandfather as he raised us. We all thought that was funny and teased him about it when we grew sophisticated enough to appreciate the opportunities for humor this situation provided. My father was generally very good natured about these things and would laugh along with us.
One of the consequences of my father marrying late was that we had very few cousins which were close to us in age as we grew up. Many were already married by the time me and my siblings came along and so we never got to know or get close to our cousins the way some people do. The age gap was simply too large to bridge when we were young from either side. So, we don't have a close extended family, and I wish we did.
Another thing which resulted from my father marrying so late in life was that my grandparents were very old when I was born. In fact, my paternal grandfather passed away before I was born, so I never knew him.
My grandfather on my mother's side, although very old was still around when I was born and would play with me whenever my parents went over for a visit...but I would never join in the play and return his affections. I think this must have bothered him quite a bit because no matter how charming and engaging my grandfather became, I was cold and aloof and unpleasant to be around when I was with him.
This went on for several months and my inability to connect with him must have left him wondering what was wrong with me. After all, being a grandpa is supposed to be natural and fun, not full of the desperate attempts at friendship that my cold demeanor had forced upon my grandpa. He was always very kind and gentle with me and also very determined. And so, he never gave up. Such is the love of grandparents. But oh, I made it so hard.
Then, one day, things changed for me, and my grandpa became someone who I trusted and accepted into my life...my grandpa became my grandpa. I'm not sure what happened or why, but I decided that I liked him and the next time he sat me on his knee I poured on the charm and returned the affections he had showered upon me for the past several months. I flashed smile after smile his way and giggled and laughed with him as he played with me for several hours.
My mother told me that he was so happy that day and then, that night, he went to bed and passed away in his sleep. So, you see, I really could have killed my grandpa or maybe he was simply too stubborn to leave before breaking down the barriers between us and once that was done, he was free to continue his journey into the next life.
Either way, I'm glad that I gave him at least one pleasant day with me before he passed away. I know that was very important to him. Besides, if you're going to kill someone don't you think it is best to kill them with happiness so they leave with a smile on their face?
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