A few memories I've been having while so far from home...I love and miss my family and wish we could all be together right now. But happy to be laughing through the tears at my fun times with Grandpa.
It's a pure and simple fact that Grandpa was the best kind of grandpa one could be.
He had a lap that could fit several grandkids at once. It was my favorite place to perch during Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune. He would pat me on the back and mumble "Bless her heart" into the top of my head. I would play with his giant watch on his wrist as he answered the questions to Jeopardy (even if his answers were wrong) with a loud, booming voice.
If I was in his chair watching Nickelodeon, I'd hear a growl from a crouching grandpa. "There's a big bear in here" and he would change the channel to the boring news and then walk backwards and pretend not to see me as he sat down. "Oh, I didn't see you there" he would say as I hopped out of his chair. He was quite the chair snatcher.
Grandma and Grandpa had a real life love story for sure. I only witnessed the latter part of it, but it was beautiful. Gram and I would make dessert for dinner - she would say "apple pie or cookies tonight for Grandpa?" and I would get to pick. One night we made pudding over 'Nilla wafers. After mixing the pudding, we realized we made lemon pudding instead of vanilla. "Oh well, your grandpa will still like it" Gram told me. After dinner, the pudding came out. Grandpa took one enormous bite and made a face. "What is this? Lemon Shafang?!" I had no idea what shafang was and I doubt grandpa did either. But he had himself two helpings of that shafang so it could not have been that bad.
At dinner, Grandpa always teased me about my nose going into the glass when I drank. He told me to keep my big nose out of it. But when I watched him drink, his nose was always in there. I never did figure out how to keep my nose from entering the glass.
Saturday morning breakfast was blackend pancakes, still gooey in the middle made by grandpa on a skillet that was 100 years old, at least. To this day, I can't eat pancakes unless they're made like grandpa's, topped with real maple syrup.
When I was finally old enough (and tall enough) to swim in the deep end, Grandpa told me I had to learn to dive. I was scared of going head first - I had just mastered swimming without plugging my nose with my thumb and index finger - what made him think I could go head first into this tub of water? Grandpa dangled me by my ankles from the diving board. I squirmed, but he had a strong hold of me. "Ready?" he asked, not waiting for an answer as he dropped me head first into the deep end. I splashed water all over him as I kicked and squirmed. When I came up, gasping for air, Grandpa was laughing. "Go again?" he asked, not waiting for an answer as he helped me out of the water and onto the diving board again. "This time, make sure that big nose of yours go first." It was a long summer.
When Gram passed away, things changed. Time seemed to stop but keep going at the same time. I visited Grandpa a lot after she died. He liked the company. He told me he didn't have to play Solitaire when I was around. Instead he kicked my butt at rummy.
Sometimes we would cook dinner. Well, we tried to cook dinner. No one could cook like Gram. One night, we decided to make a salad. I cut up lettuce, cucumbers, carrots, green peppers - it was looking very tasty - until Grandpa put in grapes, strawberries, and an orange and topped it off with creamy Ranch dressing. I trusted Grandpa, so I took my first wary bite. The plethura of flavors made me somewhat sick and I think the dressing was curdling from the citrus. Grandpa looked equally as displeased and turned to me and said "Let's order pizza". Now, this coming from a man who gardened many years before organic became trendy, I was in shock. I dialed Domino's and asked for delivery. Twenty minutes later we were eating greasy, cheesy goodness and Grandpa had a big grin on his saucy face.
Another cooking adventure with Grandpa resulted in fried spam burgers and marmalade jelly that he found in the back of the cupboard. He insisted the spam was still good, even though the date on the can was many years back. "I used to eat this in the war. It's still good, you'll see." Again, I trusted Grandpa and took a bite of his oddball concoction. "I miss your grandmother" was all he said as we added condiments to our spam and marmalade. Two bites later, we ended up going to Woody's BBQ for lunch. After that, I asked Grandpa for a shopping list before I went to visit. And I always brought oatmeal cookies.
Years later, grandpa gave me a sip of his Manhatten. "That's a fine one, wouldn't you say?" I nodded and went in for another sip and grandpa grabbbed it back "What do you think you're doing? This one's mine." I told him there was a big bear in here and snatched it back. He gave me one hard look from under those thick glasses and I slowly pushed the glass back into his hand. I knew better.
Over the years I learned a great deal from this great man, my great-grandfather. I couldn't ask for a better role model, a kinder soul or fun-filled memories. He taught me lessons I will never forget and I will always be grateful for the time we shared. I am lucky to have lived 26 years with a great-grandpa as great as he.
To the man who taught me to only go nose-first when diving - thanks for the cooking lessons - I will miss you and I will only burn my pancakes with goo in the middle.
P.S. I don't remember this, but it's my favorite story....one time I was being too chatty at the lunch table and so Grandpa told me to take out my teeth "like this" and he removed his falsies and set them on the table. For the next week I tried to remove my own teeth.
