He seems like a shadow rather than a real person. The only people who knew him are gone now, and I never really got a straight story about his personage or character. He just wasn’t there and no one wanted to talk about him because of a single choice he made. He walked away from everyone who needed him during a time of great need. Yet, today is his birthday and we must learn from his life.

Most of what I learned about my ancestral grandfather came from an article written about his mom and dad’s death in 1929. That gave me specifics for asking questions about his residence in South America. I discovered he was there looking for gold. I can only suppose in his mind that he left in an effort to strike it rich and come back a hero. Whenever I see pictures of prospectors during the gold rush of the 1800’s my mind comes back to Grandpa Vic. His daydreams like so many prospectors never came to pass. Instead, a woman who had given up a career in movies to marry those dreams was left behind. She was left with his son to face the depression alone. My dad quit school to deliver telegrams so they could make ends meet. I don’t think grandma or dad ever really recovered.

I guess I could look at the situation like the man in Johnny Cash’s song “A boy named Sue.” The song recounted a man naming his son with a girl’s name because he knew he wasn’t going to be around to raise him. The hope was that the boy would become tough and be able to fight his way through life. The reality was the same as was true in the song, the boy was wounded for life. As I grew older and watched my dad age, I was able to piece together why certain values took precedence over everything else. The many nights he went to bed hungry insured that we had a full refrigerator as I grew up. The years of want were the driving force behind his almost lifelong habit of carrying more than one job to make sure we had what we needed and things were done properly. Despite the volatility in mom and dad’s relationship during their early years, they stuck it out till the end for us AND them. Most of all I can remember the fire in his gut for insuring each of us did the right thing the first time so no one could question our motives or make fun of our family name.

I would like to have met my ancestral grandfather, despite the decisions he made. I learned that he called my dad in 1968 and asked him to come see him when he knew he was dying. My dad hopped in the car and drove there immediately. During the visit Grandpa Vic asked dad to forgive him, which dad did willingly.  I wish he had gotten a chance to really know my dad, because even with all his flaws, my dad was a good man who lived his life the best he knew how and loved God till the day he died. I still marvel at how Grandpa Vic’s one decision impacted so many people’s lives so dramatically. Yet I think of a single focused decision Christ made which provided forgiveness much greater than what dad extended to Grandpa Vic. Makes me think a lot about decisions and their importance. And, we have so many to make today. I wonder what the consequences of my next decision will be. Don’t you?

Love Dad