Today is my grandfather’s birthday. I think about him often; I am now the age that he was when I was born. He was a big, strong man a full head of gray hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and a perpetual twinkle in his eyes. He was a soft-spoken, conscientious person - I doubt that he ever so much as jaywalked - but he had a playful, sometimes mischievous wit that could fascinate a roomful of kids.
I spent a lot of weekends with my grandparents. My mom needed to offload me sometimes in order to take care of the house and my three younger siblings. I didn’t mind. My grandparents’ place was fascinating. They lived in the country on a property with sprawling lawns, a large vegetable garden, two groves of pine trees, and several immaculately tended flower gardens. One of the neighbors at the back of their place had an apple orchard and another big garden. These folks had lived through the Great Depression. They didn’t take for granted that you could always run out and buy food. They grew their own.
Beyond the developed properties were woodlands that seemed mysterious and a bit frightening. We never ventured into those woods unless our parents went with us, but being on the edge of the forest added to the bucolic mystique of the area.
In the summers, my grandmother spent a lot of time canning vegetables. All year long, she baked pies and cookies and cakes and prepared wonderful meals for the whole family. My parents would bring the little ones over for dinner on Sundays, and we would all go back home together. My grandmother’s kitchen was always producing wonderful aromas. To this day, I can feel the smell and the taste of her cooking.
My grandfather had an extensive collection of tools and gadgets in his basement workshop. As a young boy, I found it fascinating if a bit overwhelming. He must have collected every kind of saw, axe, hammer, chisel, wrench, pliers, and screwdriver throughout his life. I remember feeling overwhelmed when I went downstairs to see what he was working on, but he would always explain what he was doing and tell me that the tools were called (and which ones I shouldn’t handle). I don’t thing there was anything that my grandfather couldn’t take apart, fix, and put back together as good as new if not better.
My favorite of all of his gadgets was the lawn tractor. When I was old enough to operate it safely, let me drive it around the years. When I was a bit older, he let me mow the lawns. He also used the tractor to prepare the garden and haul items around the property in a little green wagon that he had built. One of the tractor’s attachable implements was a rototiller. It must have been one of the first commercially available rototillers, but that was my grandfather.
My grandparents had a big influence on me. I would not be the person that I am today if I hadn’t spent those fun, relaxed weekends with them. My grandfather loved gadgets; I’m sure that his example inspired the gadget freak in me. He and my grandfather always worked hard and kept busy. They didn’t spend their time idly, so I probably have them to thank for my work ethic.
My grandfather taught me to be responsible and decisive, but also caring and fair. He instilled in me the value of caring for your tools and knowing how to use them. He encouraged me to always be engaged in something productive every day, to take care of the house and the family, to be respectful to people and to value long-standing friendships. And he encouraged me to brighten my life by following my passions. My grandfather enjoyed stamp collecting, and in the evenings after a hard day of working on some project, he would wind down by watching baseball games on an impressively large color television set. On top of the television was a mechanical clock under glass that he treasured. Work hard every day, and enjoy your passions along the way. That was his greatest lesson to me.
My grandmother was a huge influence in my life, as well. She was the kindest and most caring person that I have ever met. In addition to cooking for us, she always had projects to keep us entertained when we came over to her house. Sometimes, it was something very simple, like planting seeds and then coming back week after week to watch the plants grow. She always had coloring books and puzzles for us to play with. One of her favorite projects was to have us cut pictures out of magazines and newspapers and glue them into a scrapbook. Sometimes, she made the scrapbooks herself by binding loose sheets of paper together. We pasted the picture in with Elmer’s glue. I still remember the smell of that stuff. I remember her scrubbing it off of our fingers when it dried on.
No matter what we did, she was always there encouraging us in gentle and supportive ways. She never scolded us; she never had to. She paid attention to us and talked to us and showered us with love and care. We had no reason to be bored or fidgety.
They were two beautiful, loving souls, my grandmother and grandfather. I am a richer, happier, better person for having spent time with them when I was young. I am so grateful that I had that experience.
Happy Birthday, Pop! See you in Heaven one of these days.
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