In Memory of my Grandpa
He Would Be 112 Today
This morning, my grandpa is on my mind. I miss him so much. I don’t think either of my grandparents realized how important they were to me.
My grandpa, who we called Pop, would be 112 today. He and my grandma taught me how to be a grandmother, because they were such wonderful hands-on grandparents. My memories of staying at their house during the summer as a kid are priceless. They were totally devoted to making it all about me and my sister.
OMG.
The rules were — stay up as late as you want, sleep until you wake up, and eat whatever you want whenever you want it. There was plenty of home-baked goods in the pantry for us to choose from.
By the way, thanks, Pop, for encouraging me to finish my degree.
You even paid for a couple of night courses when I needed it the most. My degree was the single most important thing I’ve ever done for myself. It gave me a wonderful career as a teacher which also lifted my family out of poverty.
I have no idea how my life might’ve turned out otherwise.
Nobody ever gave me more thoughtfully chosen gifts than my grandma, too. Nobody. Thank you so much, Nini. She was my major source of gifts to this day. Yet, she never had much money of her own.
What she did have, she usually spent on others.
Oh, and I mustn’t forget to thank both of my grandparents for modeling the joys of gardening and keeping a full larder. Their love for their farm, the animals on the farm, gardening and canning are in danger of becoming a lost art these days. Whenever I add food to my freezer or pantry, I think of Nini and Pop. I now totally understand that you can’t eat money.
Their definition of security was so down to earth.
Twice, I had the honor of living in my grandparent’s home. Not long after I was born, my mom and I stayed with them until I was about nine months old. That’s when my dad came back from the Korean War.
From all accounts, that may have been the best nine months of my life.
Apparently, they doted on me. I was their first grandchild. I even won prettiest baby in town contest that year. My mom dressed me up like a doll every day. I’m sure most of those clothes were either purchsed by my grandparents or my grandmother made them herself.
The second time that I lived with my grandparents was right after I left home.
They welcomed me into their home with open arms. I had just turned 18 and was trying to figure out what to do with my life after leaving the religious cult I was raised in. That was a hard time and frankly, I don’t know how things might’ve turned out for me if they hadn’t been there.
As I got older, I soon realized that not all grandparents were as generous with their time and money as mine. Yet, neither one of my grandparents grew up with much.
My grandma never made it past the 8th grade. There were no high schools in her neck of the woods, so she ended up marrying my grandpa at age fourteen. He was 19 at the time. His nickname was Streak because he was so fast with the girls.
My grandpa was a coal miner for many years.
He was diagnosed with black lung later in life. Their first house had a dirt floor. Their only light was an oil lamp. For many years, I kept that lamp in my house, but eventually gave it to a sister when I sold my house in Maine.
I wonder if she still has it.
Eventually, they migrated up north to Connersville, Indiana where he was hired to work for Ford Philco. I’m sure they felt like they’d won the jackpot. They built a three-bedroom ranch which they painted a bright coral color. They had a huge garden out back and planted peach trees and grape arbors.
After he retired, they bought a small farm near Cambridge City and played at being farmers.
I think that might’ve been the happiest time of their lives. I’m so glad they got to enjoy their small farm for a few years before my grandpa suffered a debilitating stroke.
My grandparents were not perfect people.
They didn’t have easy lives. As I grew older and learned how to fend for myself, I was forced to adapt to new challenges, things that my grandparents were never faced with. The gap in our real-world experiences were very apparent. I became caught up in my own struggle to survive. They became less capable of fending for themselves.
My grandfather passed away first and then eventually my grandmother.
Interestingly, they both moved in with my parents. The two people who excommunicated me as a young girl when I left the religion allowed my grandparents to live with them until my grandpa passed away. Toward the end of her life, my grandmother was placed in a nursing home, however.
Family conflicts are an entirely separate story, aren’t they?
My family had more than their fair share, but this morning is not the time or place to dwell on that part of my life. My grandpa was on my mind this morning. I had a long conversation with him while sipping my morning cup of coffee. I even shed a few tears. I’ll get back to life, my life, shortly, but I’m going to linger in the shadows of the past a bit longer.
Oh, by the way, I was born on my grandpa’s birthday. I like to think that I was the best birthday present he’d ever received.
And my grandma’s birthday is on January 8th which is also Elvis Presley’s birthday. Just a little more trivia. Maybe life is actually a trivial pursuit game.
Happy birthday, Nini and Pop. I miss you and I love you.
Teresa is an author, world traveler, and professional myth buster. You can find her books on Amazon.
