THIS IS A BIT OF A SIDE NOTE. My GRANDFATHER was lost at sea many years ago and this is the first picture that I have seen of him as a young man. I was only 10 years old when he went overboard, so I really didn't know him well, but well all believe the he was our GHOST.
My fondest memory of my Grandfather was of him building the facade of the fireplace in the parlor. He was facing it with beach rock and sent my sister, me and our cousins(all very young) to the rock beach to collect rocks for him to work with.
We all had a pail to fill and Grandpa promised to select the best ones from each bucket.
We all picked the perfect rocks-boulders actually, and put them in our buckets, Then with GREAT EFFORT we dragged those buckets back to the house and proudly presented our collection of "PERFECT ROCKS".
My Grandfather accepted each on and lovingly place the rock into the fireplace facade. His smile was genuine and our pride at lifting and dragging such big rocks all the way from the rock beach, certainly couldn't be measured.
Grampa Guy could tell (and would), who brought which rock and would recall the struggles of the "little ones"
We will always remember those days, but as we aged, those boulders became rocks, then stones, and now as adults, we see them as they are...just pebbles.
Guess it is the same with every problem or pain. With time, everything gets a new perspective.
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