My Grandfather, the Antique Dealer, a Tribute

I was lucky to grow up with a kind Grandfather. He wasn't like a soft spoken, white haired Norman Rockwell type but, spirited and jovial. In the chilly months he always wore an Irish tweed flat cap. It was a perfect frame for his rosy cheeks and smile which lit up his blue eyes. He was a round man and sometimes some might say jolly when he was on a great joke streak! Gosh he was the best story teller and boy did he have the stories from his youth to share! At dinner is when he would spin a good yarn and keep you captivated or giggling so hard you had to take a deep breath!
He is the one who taught me about selling, appreciating antiques and history from probably about the age of five. My Grandfather never said you can't. He was always positive. At antique shows he would send me, the little one to the table to answer customer's questions. He watched on fondly because I was mimicking his magical selling and social skills. I rarely recall being yelled at by my Grandfather. His approach was more about asking you what you thought or learned. He didn't need to tower over me to make a point. To disappoint him would have been shameful to me. As an adult I now realize his patience and lack of quick judgement is called great parenting. It is admirable.
I miss him everyday. When I come across a rare find I know he standing next to me just as giddy as me. He loved the thrill of a great find but, also speaking to the people who owned special things. He really liked to hear their stories. He would in turn pass these stories down when he sold to someone else. Many times you find my items at shows with not just a price but, a little bit of history written with it.
The day my Grandfather died I knew I had an angel by my side the rest of my life. XOXO