A Little Man with Sunshine in his Pocket
I would like to believe that if I try hard enough I can still talk with my grampa. And even if logic tells me this cannot be so – I know what he might say anyway.
When he felt like it he could get anyone to smile and make anyone feel better. I remember a time when I was about 7 or 8 and we went to a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant together just the two of us. The waitress seemed like she was having a really bad day. My grandpa said to her right away (using her real name, which was written on her name tag), “Hey Sally, how are you doing today?” She replied, “I’m fine.” (clearly not so…) And he said, “Well Sally, you could have fooled me – looks like you might be having a rough day, but don’t worry my grandson and I won’t be too much trouble for ya — In fact, my little man over there carries a bit of sunshine in his pocket and if you ask him nicely I bet he’ll leave a little here for you on our way out. (- with a smile)” She smiled back halfheartedly with a nod for his effort. As we sat there and continued to interact with her my grandfather in the most natural way was able to change our waitresses’ whole attitude. On our way out the waitress said to me, “Hey there little man you keep that sunshine in your pocket- someone else might need it soon- you guys have a good day and take care of that grandpa of yours.”
He wasn’t perfect, but he was the most capable person I’ve ever seen at making people feel better. Most of the time my grampa was about 50% full of bullshit, but he was also 100% full of the truth. And because of that combination he was able to connect on a real human level to anyone, anywhere, anytime. He was an artist of happy interactions. And his work was beautiful.
I could use a little of his sunshine now. Because lately I seem to be losing too much of my own. It seems like as soon as I find the hole it is leaking out of – I find another one. Maybe I just need a new pair of pants.