I made something new. It reminds me of my gram. I only really knew one of my grandparents. My Dad's mother passed away when he was 14. He worked from that day on to help support his 5 other brothers and 3 sisters. His dad passed away when I was very young, too young to remember, he was an alcoholic. My mom's dad is the one I grew up with, a nasty miserable man, also an alcoholic. I live in an old coal mining region, where the only work there was at that time was a the terrible life of the mines, and after a day in the minds, drinking was the popular form of stress relief. He was just plain miserable, and my parents took care of him and his 9 lives until he passed. But the one that I hold close to my heart is my mom's mom. She didn't look like this, but she FEELS like this in my memory. Again, she passed when I was 8, but I have a few pictures. The only memory I have of her is seeing her in the hospital before she died. But the photos I have tell me the real story of her warmth, her kindness, her being. I'm going to keep it for a while.I have worked at the same place for 23 years. I work in the ceramic and porcelain tile industry, and I have come to know very well some teriffic old timers, that still come in, either to pick up goods for the workers, or some still actually work a bit., or some come by just to talk. I know them like a grandparent. I have heard their stories, sometimes many times over. I cherish these people, and their stories, and it makes them feel wonderful. I love to hear of the old days, and how they did things. There was great respect, workmanship, and brotherhood. There is not much of that left in that industry. Some of my co-workers get annoyed when the older guys take too long, talk too much, or are repetitive. I always tell them..... someday they will not be here. So Wednesday's word is ...appreciate.
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