Grandpa played a violin and
surrounded me with Norwegian folk tunes.
He fiddled and rocked and sang and laughed.
His face was crinkled from
sun and smiles and songs.
When I was only 10 they buried him
on a hill overlooking a valley of flowers and trees
and a stream that will forever flow.
Like the stream, he stayed with me.
I still hear his violin
and his music fills my soul.
—Caroline Reid
I loved the picture this gave me of your grandfather. It made me want to know him. I had a grandfather who loved Caruso and would play us records of him singing whenever we visited. Maybe that’s why I like to listen to some of the great tenors now.
Our grandparents, if we are lucky enough to have known them, have such a lasting influence on us. Thank your for sharing your memories–and for stirring some if mine. xoA