I'm not sure how old I was when Grandpa first discovered that I don't particularly enjoy being mimicked. During every single visit that followed over the years, he never failed to mimic my words or actions. He always greeted me with the same query, "Has anyone mimicked you lately?" If I was ever absent from a family gathering, he instructed my parents to mimic me for him the next time they spoke with me. He took great joy one year in presenting me with a special gift. He had found a toy parrot that would repeat whatever I said, so that I would not feel neglected while he and I were apart. Even during our last time together, he asked if anyone still mimics me.
My grandpa possessed an extraordinary sense of humor. He found great happiness in making us laugh. His sharp wit was unmatched. He had a way of making each of us feel special and treasured.
The time spent in our grandparents' home was nothing short of idyllic. We learned early the definition of genuine kindness and concern. We felt safe and secure in the knowledge that we were dearly loved. This feeling never wavered through the years. They prayed for us in our days of struggle, and rejoiced in our triumphs. Losing them has taken some of the magic from this world.
"...then in a little while you will see me again." (John 16:16)
