Glenn Beck

What were you afraid of?

What you wanted back before life narrowed options down.

Whether you knew, really knew, how much I was watching, taking notes, becoming you when neither of us was looking.

What I would give for just one more ordinary afternoon.

Nothing special.

Grandpa, you taught me how to tell a story.

You taught me the long view, that a man plants trees he'll never sit under, that you do the work whether anybody is keeping score, that there are people in this world who do things a certain way, a steady way, a decent way, and they don't even know that the reason they do it is you.

It came down through me.

and they never heard your name, but it's there.

You're still here in the grain of things.

And this Father's Day weekend, I want both of you to know Dad and Grandpa.

I turned out all right.

There were rough stretches that you would have hated to watch, but I came through them.

The faith you handed me, sometimes without a word, just by the way you lived, held, and it's still holding.

but that's not why I sat in this chair.

I sat down not to tell you those things.

I just sat down to say, thank you.

That's all.

Just thank you for more than I knew to thank you for, for the things I'm now only now old enough to see.

I also wanted to tell you, I can't wait to see you again.