This is one miracle:
My grandfather from Dallas, Grand Daddy, grew deaf with age.
He seemed the sort of character who wouldn’t enjoy an old age in more ways than one.
Seven times married and driven twice that number of new cars off the lot, he was in a class by himself.
His last wife was the sweetest ever, and also a jailer in the ladies section of the Dallas County lock-up. When we visited she gave us the Lee Harvey Oswald tour and took mug shots.
On their last trip to Oregon, Grand Daddy had difficulty moving around, full of more health woes than a term of medical school.
The Sunday before he returned to Texas the Dallas Cowboys played a game on television.
Grandkids and great-grandkids filled a living room where he sat opposite the TV.
The noise in the room drowned out the television audio, but not for Grand Daddy. He heard every word. He repeated the play-by-play to the person next to him on the couch.
He heard everything and I heard nothing but him.
The Lesson: We label things for easy identification. It doesn’t work with people. If it did we’d look like a NASCAR fire suit.
Better Boomer suggests that the next time you have a chance, be the listener.