My Grandfather's Things

A few weeks ago, my mother dropped some boxes on my front porch step. She said that they were boxes of food cleaned out of my grandfather's house. 

You see, he has Alzheimer's disease and is now being cared for by my uncle in another state. They took him on a trip there. He had been living alone and it had become unsafe. Now, without his knowledge (it had to be that way), she and my aunt were clearing out his house to put it up for rent. Thus, the boxes on my porch.

To be honest, I wasn't delighted to see them.  I had just finished cleaning out my attic and didn't have much gumption to sort through one more thing. But, with a large family, we can always use food. So, I sat on my porch and started to go through them. 
But, as I looked through each item, I began to realize that I knew so little about this man. I was going through the things of a life, a life I had not been a part of. I grew up a few blocks from this man and had only seen him a handful of times since I was seven. As a child, I was hurt that he had no desire to and made no effort to see me. As an adult, I had just let go.

But then his wife passed away, my mother worked to forgive him  so she could help him and he was suddenly at my house for Easter. He was a stranger to me. 

I thought I had disconnected myself. But, as I looked through these boxes and my son found  

 a chess set that he started to play with, I began to wonder about him and I was tearful as I realized that I was pilfering through the tiny details of his life. I wondered where this set had come from, how many times he had played it and what friends he might have had join him.

I realized that I knew facts about him, like you would a character in a book- he was German, he fought in France in WWII, he was an accountant, he spoke 5 or 6 languages, he had seven children (two lost at young ages), a wife who died young and married another shortly after. I knew he was not always kind to his children. 

But, I didn't know him. I didn't know what tea he drank or if he drank it at all. I didn't know if this drink I found below to make you "bright and alert" actually worked for him.

I didn't know who carved these or where they were purchased or if he even knew how to play chess. I am guessing he did.

Did he like spicy food? I have no idea.

And these? Was he an artist? Did he dabble in painting in his spare time? 
These are things you know by spending time with someone and building a relationship with them and we never had that. 

Sad, not to know him. 

His mind is nearly gone now and I don't really know how to feel about it. 

These were pieces of his life and my hands had touched them. 

It would have to be enough.