My grandpa

Grandpa and Grandma Monson, Jan. 2008

Tonight, I went on a date with my grandpa.

We went to the Heber Cowboy Poetry Gathering (more on that later) to hear western singer Michael Martin Murphey -- a new favorite of mine, an old favorite of my grandpa's.

Oh, what a night. Grandpa wore his real cowboy boots; I sported my Target knock-offs. We whispered highlights to each other between numbers ("That mandolin is amazing," "Don't you get chills from his voice?"). He sang along to songs like Geronimo's Cadillac and was the only one in the venue besides Murphey himself who knew all the lyrics to "Home on the Range." I had long talks with the only grandfather I have known.

Some facts about my grandpa:
- At 16, he ditched his high school graduation to work at a dude ranch in Wyoming for the summer. He is the closest family ties I have to a real cowboy.
- He is tall, dark and handsome. When I was little, I thought he played Rhett Butler from "Gone With the Wind."
- The highlight of turning 80 last year was skiing for free at Alta.
- He is full of stories - and they all have a moral. (Our drive up - avoiding adult peer pressure; drive down - making a mark on the world as a women.)
- My grandpa is one of the only men I know that has had season tickets to the New York Met Opera and season tickets to BYU football -- and enjoys both equally.
- Women have never had a defined job in his eyes. He cooks and cleans just as much if not more than my grandma.
- He is the epitome of a true gentleman.
- Raised his family in New Jersey while he worked at a New York ad agency (I think of him every time I watch "Mad Men.")
- Makes friends wherever he goes.
- Never passes up an opportunity to serve and give to others.

Lately (for the past 13 months, to be exact), I've been having a hard time with mom life. Of course I love my darling Peanut and could not imagine life without her. I delight in her daily growth, frequent baby kisses and bubbling personality. But, to be completely honest, I don't feel fulfilled by the job. I find it boring, repetitive and lonely.

I admitted this to my grandpa. His reply:

"Amelia, the most important thing for a child is to be loved. You can tell when a child is loved," he told me on the descent through Parley's Canyon. "And that child? It is obvious she is loved."

I love my grandpa.