the day I was born there was this ruckus 

my Dad and Grandpa had been building this gray garage that still sits next to my gray house

and my grandma stood on the front porch with her hands on her hips

in disbelief that my Dad was building the garage

and not at the hospital holding me

tho he and my mother had already decided when he'd be back

they still tell this story.

the fire coming out of her ears

the shreaking of her voice.

I'm sure she still remembers it too, and retells it in her own words.

I've learned a lot about my family this year

and I've learned how much I absolutely love them.

My Dad's hair was brown then, and I think he was happier

he lived in colorado for awhile and was a carpenter

he camped in estes park and hiked and skied

sometimes he talks about those days

as he strokes his little gray beard.

did you know? they talk about these young men who are so fired up about God, waking at 5 am to read the word and pray before their day at work

or the men that fast for 40 days

which is beautiful

but my Father has been waking up for years and years at 4 something am to pray for us.

and I never knew. 

He really is quite a wonderful person. if you look past the religion that he is at times bound in.

but sometimes you will watch tears collect in the corners of his eyes as he talks about the cross, and finally seeing Jesus

and I know that beneath that mistrust, that fear, that religion

is a beating heart, that hopes for Jesus

and it makes me look past the rich shell that seems too hard to break

inside is an oyster, did you know?

everytime I come over he wants to give me the best bed they can find

or offer me coffee

explain about his garden and I am learning

his loving language happens to be gifts because he's always bringing Mom these little things

like a dress that looks just like one she'd wear but (it doesnt fit), or a movie she might like to watch with Chelsea... or a recipe for salsa.

the other day he stuck out his hand and said, 

"okay, I'm ready for my hand massage"

like a little boy waiting for christmas - so I couldn't resist.

and lately, he's been kissing my cheeks which he never used to do.

I love watching him with is grand- daughter, the way she comes up and grabs his legs and says,

"grempa!" - the way I probably used too - and he melts.

we have to look at people like they are children

because all of us are

and God's eyes are on Him, smiling

and I want to be like God.