In November our Santa died. Christmas will look different this year without him sitting beside the tree teasing the children nearby about whose turn it is to open a gift. He normally reads the gift tags incorrectly to keep the kids guessing and requests hugs in the exchange for the presents. His smile under the red Santa hat was for each person at the party. But, in November Covid, cancer, and a weak body ended his Santa career.
This mischievous, loving Santa was my Grandfather. Since his passing, my thoughts linger on memories with him. The legacy of love he left for his family and friends is awe inspiring.
As a person reaches their later years in life, I have heard their perspective shifts from looking ahead to focusing on the years behind them. My favorite podcast by the creative Emily P. Freeman talks about this in episode 148. In a story she recalls where she visits with two elderly neighbors, she says, “I naturally had more of a next thing mindset and they had more of a big picture one. I can’t help but wonder if they were even aware of when their big picture thinking went from looking primarily forward to looking primarily back.” This idea of older people looking backwards makes me wonder if Grandpa viewed life this way in his final years. I am curious if he was pleased with his life’s achievements and large family. I imagine, if I was in his place, I would be proud of what I saw in the memories past.
Grandpa was a generous giver, wise in the area of finance, diligent in his work, and faithful in marriage. Yet, the area that I adore about him most is his brilliant way of loving each of his grandchildren uniquely. He used to say to me, “you are my favorite oldest daughter of my youngest son.” He would say some version of this to each of his 21 grandchildren. He made time for what was important to us. Grandpa came to our sporting events and took us out for meals. He was a hugging sort of Grandpa, and one who would play card games for hours. At family gatherings, he served each person what they wanted to drink. He seemed to have an endless supply of chocolate milk. Each time we came to Grandpa’s house, we received a warm greeting and a loving farewell.
As I think about Skip-bo games, hugs, and chocolate milk, I wonder if I have what it takes to live a life with this caliber of love. To live with the same strength of love as my Grandpa feels like a lofty goal. Somehow, he made each of his grandchildren to feel like the favorite. And, we weren’t the only people to benefit from his care.
His legacy of love was created from so many little moments. This is why I think I might be able to live like Grandpa. Like him, those around me can feel like my favorite in all the little ways I choose to show love. A wise life is about a strong work ethic and wisdom in finance, but it’s also about serving chocolate milk to your family, taking them out to ice-cream after softball, and sitting under the Christmas tree with a Santa hat on laughing and teasing.
How is a legacy of love built? How did my Grandpa show us we were important? One small choice at a time.
-Kassie Joy
“I spend more time now looking back than looking ahead, sifting through the years and pausing over the important event of my life.” – Greg Kincaid’s opening line in A Dog named Christmas
