Random Thoughts from a Restless Mind

I travel a bit for business noways. In a shocking, barely believable turn of events, there are folks in the world of my day job who think I’m smart enough to fly in for a chat. Miami was one of my recent “smart guy” trips. Upon landing last night it occurred to me that I first visited Miami in 1972. There was only one terminal at MIA, and most of the flights were on an airline which ceased to exist 30 years ago. Miami always makes me think of my maternal grandparents. I never land here without thinking back to the day when I didn’t get to Miami on time.

My Gramp died when I was 17 or 18. The docs said it was a heart attack, but we all think it was a broken heart. Gramp had retired too soon, and his will to live seemed to retire as well. When I think of him and his passing I think of a story told about a little girl standing at the casket of her grandfather, stomping her feet in anger and righteous indignation. “He CAN’T be dead; I wasn’t DONE with him yet.” I surely wasn’t done with my Gramp when he left, and I think he probably wasn’t done with us, either.

My Gamma stuck around, and for me that was a wonderful thing. You see, I was the first male in a generation, and Gamma was my champion. In truth, she was champion to all 8 of her grandchildren, each in their own way. But I was first! Gamma stayed for many years after Gramp left us, many more than she really cared to if she was being honest. She passed as I was on my way to say goodbye, left us forever as I sat stranded in an airport halfway there. I felt just like that little girl, stomping my feet, not done with my Gamma. Alas, she was done with us.

Landing in Miami was kinda melancholy for awhile, to be truthful, but no more. With the passing of time I’ve gathered just enough wisdom to know that a large part of knowing that I’m OK is because once upon a younger time I had a champion who told me so. Gamma always told me that everything about me was OK. Told all 8 of us that.

Shortly before boarding my flight tonight I learned that Beth and I are soon to be grandparents of a grandson. It just seems right, don’t you think, that I should reflect on that on my way to Miami. That I should imagine what it will be like to say hello to my grandson as I travel to the place where I said goodbye to my beloved Gamma and Gramp. I will have a chance to be his champion, as my Gamma was for me. To tell him that he, too, is OK. That everything about him is OK.

It seems as if it was just yesterday, that long, interrupted trip to Miami. I do still so very much wish that I’d made it to there on time to say goodbye to my champion. My Gamma.