The Boy’s Grandpa passed away this past week. He was 91. He lived a long and full life, but as the minister said at the funeral service, some might be feeling – a long full life yes, but at the same time – we weren’t quite done with him yet. It was amazing how she was able to articulate how the Boy and I were feeling.
Since I’ve been designated “the writer” in the family, with the help of the whole family, I wrote a few words to say goodbye from the Grandchildren. Since I may be able to write, but can’t speak at sad occassions (or happy ones for that matter) without crying, the Boy and I nominated sister E to speak. She did an AMAZING job, no surprise… she’s pretty amazing.
Since this little blog is supposed where I keep track of the events big and small in my life – it seemed like a no brainer to save/share it here. Grandpa was pretty awesome, he will be fondly remembered and dearly missed.
People say that grandchildren are the best kind of children. At least that’s what Mom and Dad keep reminding us. You get to spoil them, have unwavering faith and enthusiasm in their ideas, and your responsible for none of the discipline and only a fraction the worry. Grandpa certainly took full advantage of his role.
A working farm may be no place for your own little girl, but there is no better place to babysit your granddaughters than spending hours together on a combine. And small treasures that don’t seem like much mean the world to your grandchildren, like seashells or garage sale finds. And stray dogs bring smiles to everyone’s faces – especially their parents.
As we got older, Grandpas face would still light up whenever one of us would walk in the door. He was always thrilled to see us, and if we hadn’t seen him in a while he’d call to hear what we were up to and get an update on the topics he was most concerned about: Are you working everyday? How’s the car running? And found any good deals lately? Of course, we all knew the answers he was looking for: Everyday. Great it’s got 315 000 km on it. And yes grandpa of course I took the new battery out of the old car before sending it to the junk yard, you’re right it will fit in our Camry.
He was supportive of all of our decisions, whether they took us back to school, across the country or across the ocean. And when best-laid plans didn’t quite work out, as they tend to do, there was never a judgmental word – because he never expected us to be perfect all the time. He did expect we’d figure it out and try again. Move back. Change programs. That’s okay, this plan seems like a good one too.
We were spoiled to have him with us for so long. And it will take some time to get use to not visiting as often as we could. We’ll miss his rote memory, his stubborn resolve to fight his failing body, that refused to work the way it did when he was 30, and endless games of Eucre.
But we find comfort in the knowledge that his memory keeps him with us, and he’ll be there quietly supportive of all our future endeavors. We’ll hear him in our hearts reminding us to work hard, be polite, don’t pay the government more than you have to, take care of the car, there’s no need to drive faster than 50, no harm in being 2 hours early, there’s no deal in an extended warranty and most important you are loved. You are loved. You are loved.