Saturday, October 10, 2009


I just got done watching the Longest Day. This movie, which is about the D-Day Landings, got me thinking about my grandfather. Grandpa was not at D-Day, his big fight was at the Battle of The Bulge, but nevertheless the movie got my thinking about him.

While I always knew that my grandfather and I had a special relationship, that I always enjoyed being with him whether it was watching the Red Sox with him or sharing the newspaper, I never quite understood the bond I had with him. Now I know...I felt safe with him. I felt safe with Grandpa because, I think, I got unconditional love and acceptance from him. His house, with its smells, its sounds, and my grandmother's cooking, was a haven for me.

Sitting here, in my chair, in my home, I realize that there are lives where I play the same role that my grandfather played in mine. Whereas grandpa shared his appreciation of baseball with me which engendered that feeling of safety, I share food. I have learned that homefries can be every bit as effective as the Red Sox as a means to convey a feeling of safety and acceptance and affection.

It is a basic, almost primal desire, the need to feel safe. It was easy for me to experience this with my grandfather because....afterall...he was my grandfather...however...I know that to be able to count on something or someone for that feeling takes a leap of courage and of faith. While this is a leap I have yet to make I know that others have come to count on me to fulfill this most basic of needs.

There is a place, that I visit as a guest, which reminds me of my grandparent's home. The smells and sounds and the company are very different, however, the feeling I have when I am there is much like I had at my grandparents when I was a boy. I think this is why its my favorite place in the world.

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