My dad was not the most politically correct, educated or sophisticated man. He had an 8th grade education, raised 5 kids, farmed his entire life. Born in 1915 he saw a lot in his life. Good and bad. I also know that grandkids meant the world to him..
He never got to meet Lucas and Eli. We had never discussed adoption during his life. I often think (usually when the boys are cracking jokes or speaking the blunt truth) that he would have had a blast with them.
One of the special things that Lucas and Eli missed out on was going to Grandma Plummer's house for holidays. She has been in a nursing home since before they came home from the Philippines. It doesn't phase them in the least. They listen to the girls' stories of grandma's house and seem to file it away in the drawer with "things that happened before they arrived".
Mom is no longer able to come to our homes so we bring pieces of home and holidays to her as much as possible. As I watched all our kids gather around her for this photo I couldn't help but think of dad. It's moments like these that bring him close and even though he's not in the picture he's smiling as big as his grandkids.