Two peas

This week my Dad has been building a chicken coop for his 85-year-old father.  Grandma came home with a batch of chickens and so one might think the coop is for her and her chickens, but no.

Grandpa is in charge of fetching the eggs.  Before the chicken house went up, the hens were roosting in the doghouse, in the goat pen, behind a line of chicken wire.  Grandma nor Grandpa seemed to find any issue with Grandpa, at 85, having to crawl on his hands and knees under the wire and chicken poo to get to the eggs.  And so my Dad (and Uncle) built them a fancy chicken coop, with a door and a window, neither of which require army-crawling in the mud in order to gather the eggs.  I assure you, the chicken coop is for Grandpa.

These two have a long history together.  I went to admire the new coop and happened to catch them taking a break on the swings.  

Despite a history which has included a difficult start and a difficult middle, they are two peas in a pod now.  As I grew older and learned some of their history, it was hard for me to reconcile the kind and gentle grandfather I knew with the tumult of his past.  I am grateful for who he has decided to become.

But I think I am more grateful for a father who made a conscious choice (and I believe it was a conscious choice) to not be embittered by an early life that was far less than ideal.  He made a conscious choice (and I believe he succeeded) to create a different experience for his own children.  His is a very powerful example of forgiving and forgetting.  And I do believe he, his father, and we are all the better for it.

(And the picture just makes me smile.)