This is a letter I recently wrote to be read at my grandfather’s 80th birthday celebration, which I was unable to return home to attend. My grandfather is a swell guy, and I don’t mind sharing with the world why I think that. Besides, who’s ever met a guy named Texas they didn’t like?

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Granddad. For 27 years, that’s the name I’ve used to refer to Texas Hughlan Stevens II, a man whose impact on my life has been phenomenal. And I must admit, few names could describe him better. He’s about as GRAND as they come. I envy the name my own children will use to address him though, as it will undoubtedly be even more fitting. Great Granddad. I just hope Granddad always realizes how grand I think he is every time I utter that name.

Some of my earliest memories are of Granddad and Nana’s old house, running around wreaking havoc on my poor relatives. But whenever Granddad was in the room, I was on my best behavior (at least that’s how I remember it). Not because I was scared of him, because even at that age I knew the Good Lord had made few men gentler and sweeter than my grandfather. I just looked up to Granddad so much that I couldn’t possibly do anything naughty in his presence (although there was the time I threw that building block across the room at Megan’s head while Granddad was watching, but that’s only because she called me a poopoo-head). When I was growing up, being around Granddad was just about the safest, most wonderful place a person could hope to be, and that’s saying a lot considering the wonderful parents I had (of course, Granddad never grounded me or took away my allowance, so naturally he provided a safer haven than my folks could).

While my friends all looked forward to seeing their grandparents on annual holiday trips, I got to look forward to seeing Granddad and Nana EVERY SUNDAY. Growing up in the same city with Granddad was fantastic. Getting up early on Sunday morning and driving halfway across town for church WASN’T so fantastic, but it was worth it as soon as morning service convened and Granddad got up in front of the whole congregation to lead the opening song. In fact, every time he got up on the podium in the middle of the huge auditorium, I would beam with pride, because that was MY grandfather up there in front of so many people. Even our preacher had to look up to Granddad and follow his lead when we were singing. I didn’t know anybody else at church whose grandfather was so important. And if any of my friends doubted just how important a man Granddad was, I merely had to lead them to the back of the church and show them “Granddad’s Office.” After all, anyone with their own office at church, even if it was just a glorified closet, was a VERY important person. And I wasn’t afraid to let my friends know it. There were even a few times when I got in trouble with my teachers at Sunday school (yes, I know it’s hard to imagine), and they would ask for my parents’ names. Being the clever little child that I was, I immediately blurted out “My grandfather is Tex Stevens,” thinking this would automatically vindicate me of my wrongdoings. Of course, this was rarely effective in preventing the inevitable spanking that was to ensue, but it does go to show I thought the world of my Granddad.

Despite having his hands full with so many grandchildren (not all of them as naughty as me either), he still managed to be very supportive of all my endeavors. He braved the incapacitating heat of Houston summers on numerous occasions to watch my soccer games, and every time I knew he was in the stands watching, I would play twice as hard. He was at my school plays, my awards ceremonies, and my music recitals. He made ALL of my graduations, something I haven’t even been able to do for my own siblings. And he’s NEVER ONCE forgotten my birthday, even though I’ve let his birthday slip my mind on more than one occasion. Even in the past eight years while I’ve spent most of my time away from home, I’ve received more birthday and Christmas cards in the mail from Granddad than from everybody else combined. Hallmark must love Granddad almost as much as I do!

Still, it’s funny that of all the wonderful memories I have of Granddad, and of all the various things I’ve received from him over the years, one of the things that stands out the most in my mind is a letter I received from him in elementary school. I had just lost a spelling bee at school that I’d trained very hard for, and a few days later I was surprised to find a letter from Granddad in the mail. He had written me a lovely letter congratulating me on doing so well. The letter went something like this:

Deer Jay-boy,

Congraduletions own yur good job at speling. I is vary prowd of you. You are such a inteligant boy. You must take after yur Granddad, becuz I used to be won uv the best speler in my scool too. I’m stil vary good at speling, you no. I hope sumday you’l be as good as me at speling. Keep up the good wurk.

Luv,

Granddad

Such a simple little letter may seem like a trivial matter, but to me it exemplifies what Granddad is best at doing: making people laugh. Anyone who has spent even 10 minutes of their lifetime with Granddad could tell you what a funny guy he is. When he came to visit me in Japan two years ago, he didn’t even need to know Japanese to make my boss and his wife laugh repeatedly. And if he’s not telling a joke or doing something silly, he’s always got on that wonderful grin of his. Just one look at Granddad smiling at you melts away your worries and apprehensions and lets you know that the world is indeed a wonderful place. And every time one of those smiles is accompanied by a “Hey Jay-boy!” and a hug, I couldn’t possibly be happier.

This semester I’m taking a leadership class at the East-West Center, and the first day of class the instructor asked us what leader we revere the most. Of course names like Ghandi, Martin Luther King, and Roosevelt all came up. When it came my turn, I told the class about a man who has lived his life for God, always giving of himself and always trying to make the world a better place for everyone; a man whose life is and always will be a great example for me to follow. I told them about Granddad. You see, there are few men I respect as much as Granddad, and that pride I took in being his grandson as a small child at church still carries over into my life as an adult. Granddad often tells me how proud he is of me, which means the world to me. But I don’t think I tell Granddad often enough just how proud I am of him.

Granddad, thank you so much for filling my life with love and happiness. I am so incredibly proud to be your grandson. You have spent 80 years on this earth serving God and your fellow man, and I know that you’ll continue to do the same all the rest of your life. It’s sad to say, but I just don’t think they make men like you anymore Granddad. But that’s all the more reason for me to be so proud to have such a wonderful grandfather like you!