"I'd like to teach the world to sing in perfect harmony."
The New Seekers - I'd Like To Teach The World To Sing
*****
"Really?" I said. "Who made it?"
"Your grandmother."
"Nanna Seraphine? I didn't know she could sew."
Grandpa Mike laughed. "As far as I know, Seraphine only ever made three quilts in her entire life. One for your mother, one for Jane and one for Jenny. None of them were much good, according to her. I think she gave up sewing entirely after Jenny was born."
"Oh," I said.
"It's a funny thing about how that quilt turned up," Grandpa Mike said. "Me and Jenny were up in the attic looking for Christmas stuff, and she found some boxes of your grandmother's things. That quilt was in one of them. Since you've got a baby on the way, I thought you and your girl might like to have it."
"Remembering that I am Tyler's wife will be sufficient," she told him.
"I'm glad he's got himself a wife, even if you are from some strange foreign country. Never thought anyone would want to marry him, you know, with all his problems and everything. For once, I'm glad to be wrong."
"Thank you," she said, not ungraciously.
"Anyway, I figured maybe you and Tyler would want the quilt for the baby."
"That's...really nice, Grandpa Mike," I said. "Thanks."
"Your Nanna would've wanted you to have it," he said. "You always were her favourite grandkid."
"I miss her."
"Me too," said my grandfather, and his voice was softer and more gentle than I'd ever heard it before. "I might not have done right by her all the time, but I loved her, you know. Loved her more than I've ever loved anybody."
"She loved you," I said. "She used to say so all the time."
"I wish she could've seen her great-grandchildren," he said.
"Me too."
"I keep thinking about that. Me and Old Doc and Alice, we're pretty lucky. If we all make it till February, we'll have five great-grandchildren. Well...six, if you count that foreign boy, I guess. Seraphine never got to see even one of them before she went. She would've been so proud of them."
"Remember how Nanna used to talk about angels?" I said. "She used to say that when a really good person passes on, they go to Heaven and become an angel, and they can look down and see all the people they love."
"Did you ever believe that?" Grandpa Mike asked.
"I don't know," I said. "I think Nanna believed it, though."
"I think she did, too."
"If it is true, maybe Nanna is watching us now. I think she'd be glad to see us talking like this."
"Yeah," my grandfather said, and then he fell silent.
I stroked the edge of the quilt and thought about my grandmother. She was a smart lady and always gave me good advice. One thing she always used to say was that I needed to be patient with Grandpa Mike. Usually, she'd offer me that particular pearl of wisdom after he'd said something to me that would hurt my feelings or make me angry which, as you might've guessed, used to happen a lot. Nanna would bring me into the kitchen, and she'd wipe away my tears if I needed it, and then she'd say something like, "Tyler, darling, you've got to have forbearance with your Grandpa. You might not think he cares, but he does. One day, you'll see." I never really grasped what she was trying to tell me when she said that, but on Christmas day this year I finally did. Twenty-four years of long-suffering and, at last, I see that there's a man capable of affection beneath Grandpa Mike's abrasive exterior.
I didn't even realize I'd been crying until Sini touched my face and said softly, "Are you all right?"
"Just thinking."
"About your grandmother?"
"Yeah," I said. I turned in the direction from which I'd last heard my grandfather's voice. "About you too, Grandpa Mike. Nanna always said there were things I wouldn't understand until I grew up. I think I figured out one of them."
"What is it?" he asked. He took a step forward and pressed a piece of cloth into my hand. I realized it was a handkerchief when he added, "Here. You might need this."
"People are full of surprises," I said.
"By people, you mean me," said my grandfather, who had evidently experienced a sudden change of mind about letting me dry my own face. He reclaimed the handkerchief and carefully but awkwardly patted each of my cheeks with it.
"Nanna said I should be patient with you. She said someday I'd see who you really are."
"She used to say the same thing to me about you," he said. "She'd say, 'There's a lot more to that boy than you think, Michael.' Damned if she wasn't right."
I smiled. "I'm glad you're seeing what I'm seeing."
"I guess all of this should've happened before now, shouldn't it?"
"It happens when it happens, Grandpa Mike," I said. "Let's just be happy it did."
"That sounds like something she would say," he said, and placed the handkerchief in my hand once more. "You've got her eyes, you know. Your grandmother's. Wise eyes, and blue like the sky on a winter afternoon."
"I wish I could've seen her. I always imagined she looked as kind as she was."
"She did. It was the way she smiled that really did it," he said. "You have her smile, too. I always used to think of it as a smile that came from the inside and worked its way out."
"I like that," I said.
"She liked it, too. Said I had a poetic soul, if you can imagine that. Me, with a poetic soul."
"She knew you better than anyone."
"Yeah, she did," he agreed.
"I want us to get to know each other," I said. "The real us. I'm sorry I never wanted to before, but I...I think we need to, now. It's important for both of us. I want you to know Sini and our children."
For a few seconds he didn't respond, but then he said very quietly, "I'd like that."
I can say honestly that I'm going to treasure our special quilt from Grandpa Mike and Nanna Seraphine but, even more than that, I'm going to cherish the memory of how the best present I got wasn't something tangible at all. The best of the gifts I received this year is harmony. I've seen myself and my family discover that although each one of us is different, we can still fit in together. Together, we can be something more amazing and beautiful and strong than any one of us could ever be on our own.
I think Christmas has a special magic about it. I don't mean Santa magic, flying reindeer or snowmen who come to life. What I'm talking about is the kind of magic that happens when people put aside their disagreements and differences for a while and decide to be kind and understanding toward each other. I've seen it happening everywhere during the last several days. it's wonderful, and I've particularly appreciated how it's been working in my own family. I wish everyone could keep this special magic alive every day of the year.
As you all know, my mother and I don't have a consistently pleasant relationship. I care about her and I do my best not to lose patience with her, but she can be an extremely difficult person to get along with sometimes. Her unfriendly attitude toward Sini and Pax hasn't helped smooth the way to our happiness either. I've often felt like she hasn't really been making an effort to understand them and my relationship with each of them. It's especially hard for me to be caught between my mother and my wife because I love them both. One of my greatest wishes is that Sini and my mother could learn to get along, and that Mum would start treating Pax less like a nuisance and more like her grandson.
I'd like to tell you that I think my wish began to come true this week.
Remember, I mentioned Mum let Pax help her make cookies on Monday and that she let him decorate them on Christmas Eve? That was major progress as far as I was concerned, but what happened on the day after Christmas was what really gave me hope that things are going to improve.
I thought the cookies were going to be for everyone in our family to enjoy, but they were not. Mum's plan for these particular holiday treats was far more generous and community-minded. Her plan was to distribute them to seniors.
Giving cookies to seniors is something Sapphire does all the time, so the concept wasn't foreign to me. I've helped Sapphire with her cookie projects before and I have to say that I really like it. The big surprise for me this week wasn't the actual idea of bringing treats to older people, but rather the fact that my mother, Julia Brightman, was the one who'd decided to do it. I mean, 'charity' isn't a word that immediately springs to mind when I think of Mum.
Needless to say, I was pleased with Mum's cookie-distributing scheme. I offered to go into town with her to help pass around treats to the residents of the local seniors' home. She said I was definitely welcome to join her and then she said she'd like Pax to come too, since he'd been such a big help with the baking and decorating.
The cool thing about Pax being an empath is that he can tell if someone is being sincere or not. Judging by his reaction when Mum asked him if he'd like to come with us to hand out cookies, she must've been absolutely sincere. He started chirping and then ran off to find his coat, shouting, "Don't leave without me, Grandmonster!" as he left the room.
Pax was a big hit at the seniors' home. The old folks loved him and made a big fuss over him. A few people gave him candy and one sweet old lady promised to knit him a scarf "in rainbow colours to match his unusual hair." I'd brought my guitar along and, even though it was the day after Christmas, we sang some Christmas songs for the seniors who'd gathered in the common room.. The residents of the home thought Pax was a great performer, and a few of them asked who had taught him to sing. He said that almost everyone can sing where he comes from, and that he thinks his people are born with the talent. One gentleman commented that he didn't know about the rest of Pax's people, but that he figured Pax must've been born with a gift for music. I agree with that. Pax is very talented indeed.
Once we'd exhausted our - or rather Pax's - repertoire of holiday songs and random songs from children's TV shows, I thought we'd say our goodbyes and head for home. My mother, as it turns out, had one more item on the program.
"Tyler, do you mind if I borrow your guitar?" she said.
"Sure, if you want," I said. "Why?"
"You'll see," she said, as I passed it to her.
A moment later, I heard her strumming experimentally. She said, "Pax, can you do the song you learned the other day?"
"I like that song," Pax said. "I do it really good."
"Really well," Mum said.
"You sing with me too?"
"Of course. Are you ready?"
"Ready!" Pax said.
Then, with my mother accompanying them on the guitar, she and Pax began to sing the song she'd taught him. I hadn't known she was teaching him anything beyond how to bake, and I concluded that they must've worked on this little surprise on Christmas Eve when Dad and I had been out tending to the neighbour's horses.
Listening to the song my mother had chosen to teach Pax, I couldn't help smiling.
I'd like to build the world a home
And furnish it with love
Grow apple trees and honey bees
And snow white turtle doves
I'd like to teach the world to sing
In perfect harmony
I'd like to hold it in my arms
And keep it company
I'd like to see the world for once
All standing hand in hand
And hear them echo through the hills
For peace throughout the land
That's the song I hear
Let the world sing today
A song of peace
That echoes on
And never goes away
I'd like to teach the world to sing
In perfect harmony
I'd like to hold it in my arms
And keep it company
I'm optimistic that this is symbolic of a warm relationship to come between Pax and my mother. Maybe she's starting to see that he's a person just like she is, even if he happens to be from a different place and has a different skin colour. If Mum can recognize Pax's and Sini's humanity, perhaps we can all be a proper family. More than anything, I want that.
While I'm on the topic of family, another thing happened to me this week that's helped renew my faith in humankind, and it's something I really want to share with all of you. I'm sure you guys recall me telling you about my Grandpa Mike, right? He's my mother's father, and my brother Michael is his namesake. Until a couple of days ago, I wasn't entirely sure Grandpa Mike even knew my name, because he'd never addressed me by it before. Usually, he just refers to me as 'boy'.
Anyway, we all spent most of Christmas day with my father's parents, Grandpa Jim and Granny Alice, so in the evening on Christmas day Mum decreed that we all had to go over to Grandpa Mike's house for a visit. Since Nanna Seraphine passed away five years ago, Grandpa Mike has been spending Christmases with Aunt Jane and her family. This year, however, Aunt Jane, Uncle Steve and my cousins are on a family vacation in Florida, so Grandpa Mike invited my unmarried Aunt Jenny to come and spend the holidays with him. I did not want to go to Grandpa Mike's house, nor did Sini. Pax is terrified of Grandpa Mike and, if Skyla's fits of crying whenever she's in the same room with him are any indication, I think she's scared of him too. This was not a situation that filled us with joy, but in the spirit of the season we agreed to go.
After all was said and done, I'm glad we did.
The visit started off pretty much as I'd predicted. Aunt Jenny offered us drinks which Dad, Sini and I all declined and which Sini and I had to decline strenuously on Pax's behalf. Pax pouted for a while, but he cheered up when the obligatory fruitcake was passed around. Sini loves fruitcake and, to no one's surprise, Pax does too. I don't like fruitcake but I took a slice anyway, just to be polite, since I'd declined Aunt Jenny's mulled wine.
We all sat in the living room and tried to make small talk, which didn't go well. Mum and Aunt Jenny were fine of course, chatting about everything and nothing the way sisters always seem to do, but the rest of us were struggling to come up with something to say to each other. Grandpa Mike wanted to know if we'd had Christmas dinner at "Old Doc Brightman's place." I'm pretty sure he doesn't know Grandpa Jim's given name but, then again, probably half the people in the county don't. Grandpa Jim was just Doc Brightman for years until my dad joined him in his veterinary practice, after which he became Old Doc Brightman (because my dad is Young Doc Brightman, naturally). Grandpa Jim is retired now, and most of Dad's contemporaries know Dad's name is James, but some of the older farmers still refer to them as Old Doc and Young Doc.
Dad and Grandpa Mike talked about horses but, since that's not Grandpa Mike's area of expertise, the exchange didn't last long. They switched the topic to the local cattle show, this fall's apple crop, and finally the weather, all without any apparent enthusiasm. Aunt Jenny asked me how school was going and she asked Sini about the baby. Sini didn't seem inclined to talk to Aunt Jenny, but she answered all her questions politely and told her that the baby will be born sometime in February. Aunt Jenny seemed interested in the fact that our baby is going to be born at home and wanted to know if Skyla had been born at home as well, and asked for far more detail than Sini was willing to share.
After a while, all the conversations in the room died away and we were left with a strange and uncomfortable silence. A minute or so passed, and Mum and Aunt Jenny left the room to refill their wineglasses. Skyla, who had wandered away from Sini and me, started whimpering on the other side of the room. Dad determined that Skyla needed to be changed, so he gathered her up and left the room, too. That left Sini, Pax and me with Grandpa Mike. I started to feel nervous.
Following another tense minute during which nobody said anything, Grandpa Mike ventured, "There's something I want to show you upstairs."
I wasn't sure if he was addressing one of us in particular or all of us in general, so I didn't reply to him. I would've felt stupid asking, Who me?
Sini must've sensed my uncertainty. She reached for my hand and gave it a little squeeze. To Grandpa Mike she said, "Are you speaking to my husband?"
"Yeah, of course I'm speaking to him," Grandpa Mike said. "I'm looking right at him."
"He cannot see you looking at him," she said quietly. "If you want his attention, it is best to use his name. It is Tyler, in case you may not recall."
I cringed at that, fully expecting my grandfather to make a mean or sarcastic retort. To my astonishment, what he said was, "Sorry. You want to come upstairs for a minute, Tyler?"
It took me a moment or two to process that. It was the first time in my entire life that I'd ever heard my name pass my grandfather's lips, and to say that I was seriously caught off guard wouldn't be an exaggeration. Somehow I managed, "Uh...sure. Can Sini come up, too?"
"Yeah."
"I not going," Pax said flatly.
"It is okay," Sini told him. "You can stay down here. Grandpa and Skyla should be back very soon."
Pax seemed fine with that, so we left him in the living room. Sini and I held hands as we followed Grandpa Mike upstairs. I've been in his house numerous times, but I can't recall ever having gone upstairs before. I had no idea where I was going and I was really glad Sini was with me.
As we reached the top of the stairs she whispered. "Is this one of those times when we should expect the unexpected?"
"Yeah, I think so," I whispered back.
Just then, I had no way of knowing how accurate that statement was and how very unexpectedly events were about to unfold.
My grandfather apparently didn't hear our comments or, if he did, he chose not to remark on them. He led us into his bedroom and told us that we might as well sit on the bed because there was only one chair and it was barely big enough for one skinny person. Sini guided me over to the bed and we both sat down.
I could hear Grandpa Mike rummaging around in a box or trunk or something. When he found what he'd been looking for, he came over to us and placed the object on my lap. "Here," he said. "This is for you."
It was wrapped in crinkly tissue paper. Sini helped me unwrap it and then I set to work examining it.
"It's a quilt," i said.
"It is beautiful," said Sini.
As you all know, my mother and I don't have a consistently pleasant relationship. I care about her and I do my best not to lose patience with her, but she can be an extremely difficult person to get along with sometimes. Her unfriendly attitude toward Sini and Pax hasn't helped smooth the way to our happiness either. I've often felt like she hasn't really been making an effort to understand them and my relationship with each of them. It's especially hard for me to be caught between my mother and my wife because I love them both. One of my greatest wishes is that Sini and my mother could learn to get along, and that Mum would start treating Pax less like a nuisance and more like her grandson.
I'd like to tell you that I think my wish began to come true this week.
Remember, I mentioned Mum let Pax help her make cookies on Monday and that she let him decorate them on Christmas Eve? That was major progress as far as I was concerned, but what happened on the day after Christmas was what really gave me hope that things are going to improve.
I thought the cookies were going to be for everyone in our family to enjoy, but they were not. Mum's plan for these particular holiday treats was far more generous and community-minded. Her plan was to distribute them to seniors.
Giving cookies to seniors is something Sapphire does all the time, so the concept wasn't foreign to me. I've helped Sapphire with her cookie projects before and I have to say that I really like it. The big surprise for me this week wasn't the actual idea of bringing treats to older people, but rather the fact that my mother, Julia Brightman, was the one who'd decided to do it. I mean, 'charity' isn't a word that immediately springs to mind when I think of Mum.
Needless to say, I was pleased with Mum's cookie-distributing scheme. I offered to go into town with her to help pass around treats to the residents of the local seniors' home. She said I was definitely welcome to join her and then she said she'd like Pax to come too, since he'd been such a big help with the baking and decorating.
The cool thing about Pax being an empath is that he can tell if someone is being sincere or not. Judging by his reaction when Mum asked him if he'd like to come with us to hand out cookies, she must've been absolutely sincere. He started chirping and then ran off to find his coat, shouting, "Don't leave without me, Grandmonster!" as he left the room.
Pax was a big hit at the seniors' home. The old folks loved him and made a big fuss over him. A few people gave him candy and one sweet old lady promised to knit him a scarf "in rainbow colours to match his unusual hair." I'd brought my guitar along and, even though it was the day after Christmas, we sang some Christmas songs for the seniors who'd gathered in the common room.. The residents of the home thought Pax was a great performer, and a few of them asked who had taught him to sing. He said that almost everyone can sing where he comes from, and that he thinks his people are born with the talent. One gentleman commented that he didn't know about the rest of Pax's people, but that he figured Pax must've been born with a gift for music. I agree with that. Pax is very talented indeed.
Once we'd exhausted our - or rather Pax's - repertoire of holiday songs and random songs from children's TV shows, I thought we'd say our goodbyes and head for home. My mother, as it turns out, had one more item on the program.
"Tyler, do you mind if I borrow your guitar?" she said.
"Sure, if you want," I said. "Why?"
"You'll see," she said, as I passed it to her.
A moment later, I heard her strumming experimentally. She said, "Pax, can you do the song you learned the other day?"
"I like that song," Pax said. "I do it really good."
"Really well," Mum said.
"You sing with me too?"
"Of course. Are you ready?"
"Ready!" Pax said.
Then, with my mother accompanying them on the guitar, she and Pax began to sing the song she'd taught him. I hadn't known she was teaching him anything beyond how to bake, and I concluded that they must've worked on this little surprise on Christmas Eve when Dad and I had been out tending to the neighbour's horses.
Listening to the song my mother had chosen to teach Pax, I couldn't help smiling.
I'd like to build the world a home
And furnish it with love
Grow apple trees and honey bees
And snow white turtle doves
I'd like to teach the world to sing
In perfect harmony
I'd like to hold it in my arms
And keep it company
I'd like to see the world for once
All standing hand in hand
And hear them echo through the hills
For peace throughout the land
That's the song I hear
Let the world sing today
A song of peace
That echoes on
And never goes away
I'd like to teach the world to sing
In perfect harmony
I'd like to hold it in my arms
And keep it company
I'm optimistic that this is symbolic of a warm relationship to come between Pax and my mother. Maybe she's starting to see that he's a person just like she is, even if he happens to be from a different place and has a different skin colour. If Mum can recognize Pax's and Sini's humanity, perhaps we can all be a proper family. More than anything, I want that.
While I'm on the topic of family, another thing happened to me this week that's helped renew my faith in humankind, and it's something I really want to share with all of you. I'm sure you guys recall me telling you about my Grandpa Mike, right? He's my mother's father, and my brother Michael is his namesake. Until a couple of days ago, I wasn't entirely sure Grandpa Mike even knew my name, because he'd never addressed me by it before. Usually, he just refers to me as 'boy'.
Anyway, we all spent most of Christmas day with my father's parents, Grandpa Jim and Granny Alice, so in the evening on Christmas day Mum decreed that we all had to go over to Grandpa Mike's house for a visit. Since Nanna Seraphine passed away five years ago, Grandpa Mike has been spending Christmases with Aunt Jane and her family. This year, however, Aunt Jane, Uncle Steve and my cousins are on a family vacation in Florida, so Grandpa Mike invited my unmarried Aunt Jenny to come and spend the holidays with him. I did not want to go to Grandpa Mike's house, nor did Sini. Pax is terrified of Grandpa Mike and, if Skyla's fits of crying whenever she's in the same room with him are any indication, I think she's scared of him too. This was not a situation that filled us with joy, but in the spirit of the season we agreed to go.
After all was said and done, I'm glad we did.
The visit started off pretty much as I'd predicted. Aunt Jenny offered us drinks which Dad, Sini and I all declined and which Sini and I had to decline strenuously on Pax's behalf. Pax pouted for a while, but he cheered up when the obligatory fruitcake was passed around. Sini loves fruitcake and, to no one's surprise, Pax does too. I don't like fruitcake but I took a slice anyway, just to be polite, since I'd declined Aunt Jenny's mulled wine.
We all sat in the living room and tried to make small talk, which didn't go well. Mum and Aunt Jenny were fine of course, chatting about everything and nothing the way sisters always seem to do, but the rest of us were struggling to come up with something to say to each other. Grandpa Mike wanted to know if we'd had Christmas dinner at "Old Doc Brightman's place." I'm pretty sure he doesn't know Grandpa Jim's given name but, then again, probably half the people in the county don't. Grandpa Jim was just Doc Brightman for years until my dad joined him in his veterinary practice, after which he became Old Doc Brightman (because my dad is Young Doc Brightman, naturally). Grandpa Jim is retired now, and most of Dad's contemporaries know Dad's name is James, but some of the older farmers still refer to them as Old Doc and Young Doc.
Dad and Grandpa Mike talked about horses but, since that's not Grandpa Mike's area of expertise, the exchange didn't last long. They switched the topic to the local cattle show, this fall's apple crop, and finally the weather, all without any apparent enthusiasm. Aunt Jenny asked me how school was going and she asked Sini about the baby. Sini didn't seem inclined to talk to Aunt Jenny, but she answered all her questions politely and told her that the baby will be born sometime in February. Aunt Jenny seemed interested in the fact that our baby is going to be born at home and wanted to know if Skyla had been born at home as well, and asked for far more detail than Sini was willing to share.
After a while, all the conversations in the room died away and we were left with a strange and uncomfortable silence. A minute or so passed, and Mum and Aunt Jenny left the room to refill their wineglasses. Skyla, who had wandered away from Sini and me, started whimpering on the other side of the room. Dad determined that Skyla needed to be changed, so he gathered her up and left the room, too. That left Sini, Pax and me with Grandpa Mike. I started to feel nervous.
Following another tense minute during which nobody said anything, Grandpa Mike ventured, "There's something I want to show you upstairs."
I wasn't sure if he was addressing one of us in particular or all of us in general, so I didn't reply to him. I would've felt stupid asking, Who me?
Sini must've sensed my uncertainty. She reached for my hand and gave it a little squeeze. To Grandpa Mike she said, "Are you speaking to my husband?"
"Yeah, of course I'm speaking to him," Grandpa Mike said. "I'm looking right at him."
"He cannot see you looking at him," she said quietly. "If you want his attention, it is best to use his name. It is Tyler, in case you may not recall."
I cringed at that, fully expecting my grandfather to make a mean or sarcastic retort. To my astonishment, what he said was, "Sorry. You want to come upstairs for a minute, Tyler?"
It took me a moment or two to process that. It was the first time in my entire life that I'd ever heard my name pass my grandfather's lips, and to say that I was seriously caught off guard wouldn't be an exaggeration. Somehow I managed, "Uh...sure. Can Sini come up, too?"
"Yeah."
"I not going," Pax said flatly.
"It is okay," Sini told him. "You can stay down here. Grandpa and Skyla should be back very soon."
Pax seemed fine with that, so we left him in the living room. Sini and I held hands as we followed Grandpa Mike upstairs. I've been in his house numerous times, but I can't recall ever having gone upstairs before. I had no idea where I was going and I was really glad Sini was with me.
As we reached the top of the stairs she whispered. "Is this one of those times when we should expect the unexpected?"
"Yeah, I think so," I whispered back.
Just then, I had no way of knowing how accurate that statement was and how very unexpectedly events were about to unfold.
My grandfather apparently didn't hear our comments or, if he did, he chose not to remark on them. He led us into his bedroom and told us that we might as well sit on the bed because there was only one chair and it was barely big enough for one skinny person. Sini guided me over to the bed and we both sat down.
I could hear Grandpa Mike rummaging around in a box or trunk or something. When he found what he'd been looking for, he came over to us and placed the object on my lap. "Here," he said. "This is for you."
It was wrapped in crinkly tissue paper. Sini helped me unwrap it and then I set to work examining it.
"It's a quilt," i said.
"It is beautiful," said Sini.
"It's handmade," Grandpa Mike said. "It was your mother's baby quilt, Tyler."
"Really?" I said. "Who made it?"
"Your grandmother."
"Nanna Seraphine? I didn't know she could sew."
Grandpa Mike laughed. "As far as I know, Seraphine only ever made three quilts in her entire life. One for your mother, one for Jane and one for Jenny. None of them were much good, according to her. I think she gave up sewing entirely after Jenny was born."
"Oh," I said.
"It's a funny thing about how that quilt turned up," Grandpa Mike said. "Me and Jenny were up in the attic looking for Christmas stuff, and she found some boxes of your grandmother's things. That quilt was in one of them. Since you've got a baby on the way, I thought you and your girl might like to have it."
"My name is Sini," Sini said, "and I am Tyler's wife."
"Sini," he repeated. "Don't know how I'm going to remember that."
"Remembering that I am Tyler's wife will be sufficient," she told him.
"I'm glad he's got himself a wife, even if you are from some strange foreign country. Never thought anyone would want to marry him, you know, with all his problems and everything. For once, I'm glad to be wrong."
"Thank you," she said, not ungraciously.
"Anyway, I figured maybe you and Tyler would want the quilt for the baby."
"Thank you," Sini said again.
"That's...really nice, Grandpa Mike," I said. "Thanks."
"Your Nanna would've wanted you to have it," he said. "You always were her favourite grandkid."
"I miss her."
"Me too," said my grandfather, and his voice was softer and more gentle than I'd ever heard it before. "I might not have done right by her all the time, but I loved her, you know. Loved her more than I've ever loved anybody."
"She loved you," I said. "She used to say so all the time."
"I wish she could've seen her great-grandchildren," he said.
"Me too."
"I keep thinking about that. Me and Old Doc and Alice, we're pretty lucky. If we all make it till February, we'll have five great-grandchildren. Well...six, if you count that foreign boy, I guess. Seraphine never got to see even one of them before she went. She would've been so proud of them."
"Remember how Nanna used to talk about angels?" I said. "She used to say that when a really good person passes on, they go to Heaven and become an angel, and they can look down and see all the people they love."
"Did you ever believe that?" Grandpa Mike asked.
"I don't know," I said. "I think Nanna believed it, though."
"I think she did, too."
"If it is true, maybe Nanna is watching us now. I think she'd be glad to see us talking like this."
"Yeah," my grandfather said, and then he fell silent.
I stroked the edge of the quilt and thought about my grandmother. She was a smart lady and always gave me good advice. One thing she always used to say was that I needed to be patient with Grandpa Mike. Usually, she'd offer me that particular pearl of wisdom after he'd said something to me that would hurt my feelings or make me angry which, as you might've guessed, used to happen a lot. Nanna would bring me into the kitchen, and she'd wipe away my tears if I needed it, and then she'd say something like, "Tyler, darling, you've got to have forbearance with your Grandpa. You might not think he cares, but he does. One day, you'll see." I never really grasped what she was trying to tell me when she said that, but on Christmas day this year I finally did. Twenty-four years of long-suffering and, at last, I see that there's a man capable of affection beneath Grandpa Mike's abrasive exterior.
I didn't even realize I'd been crying until Sini touched my face and said softly, "Are you all right?"
"Just thinking."
"About your grandmother?"
"Yeah," I said. I turned in the direction from which I'd last heard my grandfather's voice. "About you too, Grandpa Mike. Nanna always said there were things I wouldn't understand until I grew up. I think I figured out one of them."
"What is it?" he asked. He took a step forward and pressed a piece of cloth into my hand. I realized it was a handkerchief when he added, "Here. You might need this."
"People are full of surprises," I said.
"By people, you mean me," said my grandfather, who had evidently experienced a sudden change of mind about letting me dry my own face. He reclaimed the handkerchief and carefully but awkwardly patted each of my cheeks with it.
"Nanna said I should be patient with you. She said someday I'd see who you really are."
"She used to say the same thing to me about you," he said. "She'd say, 'There's a lot more to that boy than you think, Michael.' Damned if she wasn't right."
I smiled. "I'm glad you're seeing what I'm seeing."
"I guess all of this should've happened before now, shouldn't it?"
"It happens when it happens, Grandpa Mike," I said. "Let's just be happy it did."
"That sounds like something she would say," he said, and placed the handkerchief in my hand once more. "You've got her eyes, you know. Your grandmother's. Wise eyes, and blue like the sky on a winter afternoon."
"I wish I could've seen her. I always imagined she looked as kind as she was."
"She did. It was the way she smiled that really did it," he said. "You have her smile, too. I always used to think of it as a smile that came from the inside and worked its way out."
"I like that," I said.
"She liked it, too. Said I had a poetic soul, if you can imagine that. Me, with a poetic soul."
"She knew you better than anyone."
"Yeah, she did," he agreed.
"I want us to get to know each other," I said. "The real us. I'm sorry I never wanted to before, but I...I think we need to, now. It's important for both of us. I want you to know Sini and our children."
For a few seconds he didn't respond, but then he said very quietly, "I'd like that."
I can say honestly that I'm going to treasure our special quilt from Grandpa Mike and Nanna Seraphine but, even more than that, I'm going to cherish the memory of how the best present I got wasn't something tangible at all. The best of the gifts I received this year is harmony. I've seen myself and my family discover that although each one of us is different, we can still fit in together. Together, we can be something more amazing and beautiful and strong than any one of us could ever be on our own.
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