Poems About Grandpa

My father was born Dec. 4, 1942 to Bill and Helen Van Camp. They raised him and three daughters the best they could. My dad has always talked about having some underlying problems in childhood which he believes later manifested into alcoholism.

After a messy adolescence, quitting high school and joining the Navy, he met a young beautiful Ecuadorian girl whom he married in 1962. I'm the product of that marriage and as my dad lovingly puts it, "the best thing that ever happened" to him.

My parents were only married for about a year. Mom divorced dad leaving him to deal with his problems. After more than 10 years of "self will run riot" as he says, he sobered up in July of 1976. I was 13 years old at the time and I remember going to AA meetings with him and praying and hoping he would forever quit drinking.

With God's help, things turned around for my papa and he quit the bottle. He slowly got back on track and began dealing with the problems that we all face without alcohol—fear, separation, insecurity, anger, jealousy, which my dad says his addiction "devilishly swept under the rug for a lot of years." After years of working on our relationship, more him reaching out to me trying to make "amends"—one of the steps of the AA recovery program—I can honestly say he's been successful. He has also taught me valuable lessons. Forgiveness and unconditional love are the most important ones.

I haven't yet fully learned these lessons. My dad, however, has mastered them. Since my marriage in 1989 and the birth of my three children, he's tried to "make amends" by visiting me regularly, writing to me often, connecting with my children who love their grandpa, calling me at least once a week, more often now that we're getting older.