My Grandson

img_1069What is it about this little boy, seven years old, who keeps me wanting to have him always by my side? We never invited him to be a part of the family; we never expected him. But he came anyway.

And we love him. Oh, how we love him! Never a day would pass without us in the family expressing this heartfelt emotion toward him and embodying that emotion with acts of love. It is not just money and toys, it is money and toys wrapped in tenderness. It is not just McDonalds and Jollibees, or electric train, or the colored TV; it is these that when attached to the act show that he is the most loved persona in the household.

And so he holds that special place. He is not content of me being just his grandfather, he wants me take on the role of the man whom he saw only once or twice in his life, the father he wants to be with but never wants to see. We in the family always wish the boy well. And in our wish, we desire that he will turn into something still lovable in our eyes. For is it not, that when a man grows old, he either grows into the most hated man or the man most loved? We wish him to be the man we always desire to be, but have not been. And that desire moves us to have him turned into a man who will have a healthy respect for the father he never misses.

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