Thursday, April 29, 2010

What's in a Pocket Knife?


I couldn't find dad's knife, but it was like the
picture above other than time had shown it's
use. Dad's knife now missed the red coverings
and more. The following is a letter to my
nephew.
*
Dear Scotty,
This is a gift from Grandpa and me.
While I combing through things in his workshop, I came across his old pocket knife. That knife had seen a lot of years. I remember when I was sixteen (and older) seeing Grandpa use his knife to fix a leader on the end of my fishing line. If it were not because I cast my line into the mangroves, it would be because the groupers would run under the coral rocks and tangle the line. Either way, he'd have to cut it. One of my favorite memories is when I cast my line into the trees (unknowingly, the bait on the hook dangled below the water's surface about a foot.) Grandpa had just painstakingly gotten the boat anchored the right distance from the overhanging limbs and water's edge. I don't know if it was from embarrassment or the dread of getting yelled at, but I sat about fifteen minutes before I said anything. As he pulled anchor and let the boat drift back, his words clearly ring, "THIS IS GOING TO SCARE ALL OF THE FISH AWAY!" All was not lost. The LORD blessed anyway. When Grandpa lifted the line to cut it, there was a twelve pound grouper on the other end! The grin on his face and the sparkle in his eyes let me know he was no longer angry. After all, he hadn't caught anything as yet!


Not far from where I found his pocket knife, there was an old Tiki head he had carved out of mahogany. Grandpa loved to whittle. His knife was especially good for hewing out the finer details, which gave the face its character, particularly the lips! He liked to create LARGE lips on his Tiki heads. The blade had been sharpened down to not having much left. It had seen many wooden faces in its lifetime.
*
As I looked into the inner cavity, there were some missing parts. I guess use and time had taken its toll. One other blade was left. Upon extracting it, I noticed the blade had been broken off at mid-point. I don't know the story behind it, but I guess there has to be some mystery to keep the heart eager!




I had heard Grandpa say he'd like to give you a pocket knife when you were old enough. He's not here now to do that, so I will...for him.
*
Scotty, Grandpa loved you with all of his heart. He wasn't one much for words. There were many things he wanted to do with you and for you, but was unable due to his mind-set being many more years ahead of yours; and his ability no longer able to keep in stride.
*
There's a special bond with dads, no matter if you are a son or a daughter. Your dad is your best buddy. Grandpa was mine even up to the moment he died. If there were one thing I could have changed for dad, it would have been for me not to disrespect his directions because of my own selfishness. "Do I have to! Gee...Dad, give me a break!" Of course, usually the break I got definitely wasn't what I intended!
*
Grandpa's pocket knife has seen the end of its usefulness. Just as the LORD saw it was time for Grandpa to change the Old for the New, I want to replace the old pocket knife for a new one. Scotty, this isn't just a pocket knife. It's a memory maker. If the LORD doesn't return soon, you may be able to pass it, as well as a lifetime of memories onto your grandson.
*
In the love and grace of Jesus our LORD and Savior,
Love, Aunt Susan...and Grandpa.





2 comments:

Janet said...

Susie

What a great memories you are passing on. I love when you share them.

Blessings
Janet

Nellie's Cozy Place said...

Hi Susan,
Happy Friday, we have been painting in the bathroom. I think one more time should do it!!
Praise the Lord!
I remember the Christmas you gave that to Scott, it was such a sweet gesture and also reminded me of dad so much, I had to get up and go to the bathroom to keep from busting out crying!! I am sure Scott will always remember it too!! Thanks for being such a thoughtful Aunt to Scott and DeeAnna. They love you so much, and so do we.
Love ya, Nellie