Being somewhat slow on the uptake, I just just recently figured out another thing about grandparents and grandchildren. Yes, it does take old AC awhile to get it but better late than never, I suppose.
Look at the photo and tell me what you see. Okay then, don’t tell me, but think on it.
What I see in this photo by his garden is my grandfather’s hand on my shoulder. By George, for that was his name, it’s almost a hug.
What I surmise from that is that he was probably tickled pick with his grandson, especially at his age as he was already in his seventies, and I was his first and last. He would have known that too … or known it as much as such things are knowable.
He didn’t have the same access to me as I have to my grandkids, and both he and my maternal grandfather were British, or at least had been born in England. British men of that era did not necessarily relate to their children and grandchildren as we tend to do now, but I rather think that in his own way he was quite taken with his grandson. Now that the grandson is now a grandfather, it kind of warms the cockles of my heart to think that I was once loved by my grandparents in much the same way that I love mine.
It took me until now to figure that out. As I said, I’m a rather slow learner.