The Flag and the Cap

I'm not really going to make a big Paul Harvey-esque (rest of the) story about this, but I wanted to mention it, anyway, because it means more to me than perhaps anything has in years.

Today, my mother gave me the flag from my grandfather's casket and his favorite cap. We lost him earlier this summer, and he was a great man. He was a simple man, but one of the greatest influences of my life, second only to my own father. He came from an era when men were men, knew what they had to do, and did it. Simple as that. He did it. Didn't complain. Raised his family, provided for them, and loved them. He wasn't overly affectionate, but to be around him, as a grandchild, was to feel important, to feel fulfilled, to feel loved.

He had a simple grace that any words I put here can conjure. They don't make men like him anymore. There is no greater honor that I could have bestowed upon me than to be given this flag and his cap. The cap I always saw him in, when we used to take walks around the old neighborhood, which is one of the greatest memories of my childhood. I will cherish both of them for the rest of my life. Hopefully they'll help me keep his memory alive and remind me constantly how to be a real man.

Originally posted Monday, October 23, 2006 at 1:23am