Tonight, while searching through some family stuff, and I came across a photo of my mother's father, my grandfather William Knight.
He's the only grandparent I ever knew.
My grandfather was born in 1900. I remember that, even as a kid because it made it easy to remember how old he was. After my dad passed away in 1974, my mom lost her father a few years after. There's a lot I don't know about him, but I do know when he was a a child the family moved into the home where my cousin now lives in Driggs, Idaho in 1906. I know Grandpa Knight had an accident when he was young where he was burned badly over much of his body. I only learned of this long after he passed away. Funny how that happens. We learn so much after there's a chance to learn even more.
There's another connection my grandfather and I share, his first name is my middle name. And we gave my first-born that middle name as well.
Growing up where I did, I was surrounded by kids who had all of their grandparents still alive. When Grandpa Knight died, most of my friends my age still have most of their great-grandparents living. I always felt a bit cheated. That's how kids think sometimes.
If my grandfather were still alive today, he'd be in the record books and I would have had half a century to get to know him. A decade is hardly enough time. Then again, you can know someone for a century and still learn more about them everyday. For example, you can learn that once, when they were little, someone took a picture of them with the only grandparent they ever knew in clothing that only a grandparent could appreciate. That would be something new to learn.
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