grandpa

Grandpa was a lean, hearty man with a 'no-one's fool' gentleness, schooled in common sense and the results of reasoned efforts fired by the love of self-determination. At eighty he had the strength of a man half his age. His personal creed was strong, his code of conduct regarded by many as holy, and his diet rigorous - 'eat anything from the garden, and nothing more.' No drink or smoke passed his lips, nor did bad words.

I came to visit him in his country home bordered by a great garden, a humble estate almost hidden by acres of woodland but for a small break where a railway line could be seen not far beyond. New paint on the house, the weathervane repaired, otherwise it appeared nothing else had changed in five years.

Settled in, I was pleased to visit him and enjoy the country solitude. Grandpa came out to the front porch just as I was sitting comfortably in his old oak rocking chair. As if by the light of heaven, he smiled and said to me, 'Comfort elsewhere is laziness here.' Pointing beyond the garden, Grandpa added, 'Come. Help me with that woodpile over there, then we'll rest.' It was the beginning of many lessons I was to learn on what it is to be free.
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