My ex-wife’s grandfather, Orville, was a quiet millionaire who most of his family saw as a bank account. I never wanted his money—just for my kids to know him while they still could. One spring, he called unexpectedly and invited me and the kids to spend the summer at his lake house. My ex was furious, but I went. That summer became magical. Orville taught the kids to fish, whittle, and listen to loons across the lake. He shared stories of war, family, and resilience.
Every moment was a lesson in love and presence. When my ex showed up trying to charm Orville, he quietly confided to me, “They love what I have. You help them love who I am.” After an ankle injury, we spent cozy days by the fire. “This is the best week of my life,” he told me. Before we left, he gave the kids his coin collection and handwritten stories.
