“Grandpa, everything is changing fast. We call it progress, but I just don’t know. And Grandpa, let’s wonder back into the past, and paint me a picture of long ago.” -The Judds
I’ve had seven grandmothers in my life: two great-grandmothers, two grandmothers, one step-grandmother, and two adopted grandmothers. But I’ve only had one grandfather. Haven Leonard Miller, better known as “Papa,” is the best grandfather any child could ever ask for. Since August, I’ve practically lived with Papa and his wife, Ann. My main purpose was to be closer to school and have a more convenient place to study. I haven’t only learned about the field of radiology while living there, but I’ve learned a lot about this amazing man. He has always been one of my favorite people on this beautiful planet, but over the past six months we’ve grown so much closer. I have so many fond memories of Papa growing up; riding around in his F-150 on the farm with Tyler’s and my baby pictures dangling in the rear view mirror, him always walking into Mom’s kitchen, arms opened wide, getting a hug and sneaking us either a lemon cookie or chocolate-coconut granola bar, and our trips to NASCAR races, Ohio, and Utah. Now we’re making memories either sitting by the fire or at the kitchen table. My dear Papa Haven, he loves to talk; lucky for him, I love to listen. Our topics vary, from the Air Force to school to his shenanigans growing up. I cherish every single moment with Papa, cause I know they are becoming more and more scarce. Frequently, I’ll walk in the door and he’ll ask me how my class went and then I will have to ask how his doctor’s appointment went. That’s one part of our relationship that I despise; his life is consumed with doctors appointments and mine is consumed with school and studying. That’s why the moments by the fire or at the kitchen table are some of the most important parts of my day. We sit and reminiscence on how are day went, we talk about the good old days, and of course our darling cat, Toby. There’s one thing about Papa that I rarely see, and that is to see him crying. Over the past few months, I have seen this twice and it breaks my heart. With tears in his eyes he talks about how thankful he is to have Tyler and me for grandchildren, but I know that we are the lucky ones. Tyler was not quite two months old when our Grandpa Jones passed away, so neither of us never had the opportunity to get to know him. Our Papa has never made us feel as if we were missing out by only having one grandfather. He has done so much for us, and I don’t think either of us could ask for a better confidant or friend. Everyday that I am in his house I realize more and more what all this dear man is going through. It’s one of the most difficult things I have had to see, but probably one of the best things. Our bond has grown so much stronger since I have moved in with him and Ann. The stories, the occasions of laughter, the moments of woe, and the times of praise to our God are important to me; and sharing them with him are even more meaningful. There may be a 56 year difference between us in age, but he is my best friend.
shelley.lee 