Don't Give Up

The other day I was jogging along, trying to rid myself of belly fat, thinking about the terrible economy, and worrying a whole lot. Worrying about my family, worrying about the country, worrying about the whole dang world. All of a sudden I could hear my grandfather's voice telling me not to give up. Now, my grandfather is someone I will miss every day for the rest of my life. He was one of the best men I have ever known or ever will know. A true gentleman. Yet he taught me, by example, some of the worst cuss words I have ever heard! Pop was born almost a hundred years ago. He grew up with four brothers. He lived through several wars, the Great Depression, and night shifts at the steel mill. He played the organ. With my amazing grandmother he raised four great kids. He built things, fixed things and always worked hard. He really used his tools. I have a hand crank drill from Pop I treasure even though I can't make it work the way he did. I can picture him in his late eighties, sweat dripping, staggering on his painful feet, mowing his sloped front lawn with a push mower in the heat of August. He probably considered it a weakness that he was using a motorized mower instead of an old fashioned reel mower. Anyway...Pop wasn't one for a lot of flowery stuff but he always made me feel loved. Through the many years I was lucky enough to have him he reminded me, numerous times, to not give up. "Don't give up, Sis," he'd say during small challenges (like the SATs) and big ones (like my parents' divorce). It even became a joke at times, a reminder not to take myself too seriously, and he'd say it with a toothy smile. This simple, common phrase became shorthand for so much, but at the root of it was Pop's love. So I am saying it to myself and anyone else who needs to hear it!