An open letter to my grandpa,

Hey Grandpa,

I want to thank you for the things you taught me.

You taught me how to shoot. If you remember, at first I couldn't hit anything. But rather than be painfully embarrassed that your grandson had like zero skill for marksmanship, you paid attention to how I was setting up and where I was missing, and you discovered that while I was right-handed, I was also left eye dominant. I can only wink my right eye, and so instead of getting a straight perspective down the sights, I was getting the wrong side of the stereo image, instead of a focused, mono image. You asked me to try shooting with both eyes open and then to try shooting left-handed. As soon as I set up left handed I started hitting everything I took aim at. It sounds kinda sad when I say it now, because I think I have lots of talents, but that was one of the first times in my life I felt like I was good at something. My experiences at school had been kind of hard that year and one of the things that was hardest was that I didn't feel good at anything. I sucked at football, basketball, kickball, and tetherball. I was being sent to "resource" (remedial math) with the retarded kids and seeing a shrink. A little success felt pretty freaking great at that point.

You taught me how to drive stick... the first time. My dad had to teach me again later, and I remember he was a somewhat less-effective, certainly less patient teacher. I loved driving around in the forest behind your property. When I got the truck stuck once, you didn't get upset at all. Instead, you said, "Let me teach you how to lock the hubs and use four wheel drive!" I never felt intimidated to learn new things, because I knew you would show me how to succeed at them. You taught me how to reload ammunition, use a lathe and a drill press, patch leaks in a rowboat, dig a trench, till a garden, grow tomatoes, cut firewood, weld, rig a tow hitch, and frame a building.

You taught me a lot indirectly too... I learned about being a good and loyal friend, respecting women, keeping good humor, being trustworthy and honest, and how to love the world around me. I learned that from watching you. I grew to love the things you loved. You loved music, poems, and stories. You loved dogs, and fishing, and shooting, and kids. You loved nature. You loved to create things with your hands. You loved hard-earned exhaustion.

I know why Grandma loved you so much. I mean, I saw you maybe 8 times a year and spent one summer living in your basement, and you were by far one of the biggest influences for good in my life. I loved you sooooo much. Grandma not only got to be with you all the time, she was your best friend. You were lucky to have her too, for the record, but I know you knew that because of how you treated her. Thank you for teaching me the most important thing there was for me to learn... how to be a really good man. I'm a slow learner, for sure, but I never forget the example you set for me. You're the person, on the other side of mortality, that I miss the most. The children of the stepchildren of a man's second marriage don't always get to have a very close relationship with him... Lewis, thank you so much for being my Grandpa.

Love, Jared.

A.O.