So Long, Grandpa
My aunt Janice snapped the photo above of me with my
grandparents on November 11th, 2012. Janice and I had recently arrived
in Orlando from a cross country trip from her former home in Las Vegas. She
does not like to fly, has a bunch of cats and asked me to transport her and her
feline kids to Orlando in a rented RV. My grandparents were well-north in age
and she wanted to be closer to them in case they needed assistance. As a
registered nurse, nobody was more qualified than her; no one else knew them
like she did.
Her timing was perfect- almost from the moment she arrived
her presence was beneficial to both of them. They were doing well at the time,
but grandpa was experiencing a slow onset of health issues that would continue
for quite some time. Yesterday I received a worrisome text from my mother that
resulted in a phone call. I learned that my grandfather’s issues were no more.
He was now at peace. It became apparent over the last few weeks that this was
an expected event. None of us thought it would be as quick as it was.
Naturally, my thoughts turned to him as I carried some
sadness down the highway on my way home yesterday. I was now out of living
grandfathers. Since grandpa lived in Florida, I wondered if it would be easier
for me to take than the passing of my other grandfather who lived down the road
in Harrisburg. In some respects, I thought it might be. I did not have to see
him weak, frail and attached to medical devices he could not stand. On the
other hand, our memories ran deep, especially during the impressionable years
of my youth. It was no big deal to fly down whenever we wanted because of my
father’s career as an airline pilot. Write a ticket and go and we went quite
often. Those trips were something I looked forward to and it made me sad when
they were over. As the sunny day slowly faded towards night, the miles kept
clicking away and I determined it was just as hard to lose Grandpa Enders as it
was my Granddad Harry. If anything, it hurt more that I could not see him once
more or had more time together in the first place. But this is not a competition
among grandfathers- they were both extraordinary men who are both responsible
for the man I have become. This is a brief reflection back on our time together
as grandfather and grandson- a story strictly of our good times only because
there were no bad times.
Grandpa retired from the Navy in 1978, when I was only six years
old. I don’t have any memories of that time, so he was basically “just my
grandpa” for as long as I knew him. Like most veterans of the era, he did not
offer any details of his heroic service nor did I ask. He did, however, like to
tell me stories about my mom and her sister Janice when they were growing up,
many of which happened in foreign countries. I loved to hear them as much as he
liked to tell them. He may have been “just my grandpa,” but he played the role
oh so well. When we were together, he made our time all about me. I inherited
many things that he was because he showed me so well who he was and I liked
him.
First on my mind, is the lack of hair on my head. I began to
develop a serious horseshoe in my late twenties. At first I wondered why it was
happening to me. After all, to this day my dad is blessed with a decent mop on
his head. One day I read a story where I learned that male pattern baldness is
inherited from a man’s grandfather on his mother’s side. I understood right away
that my horseshoe would become more pronounced until I matched my grandpa. That
prediction came true, but I shave my head because I like it better. When I
reach for my razor and lean towards the mirror, I almost always notice my forehead and
think how much it looks my grandpa’s did- freckles, sunspots and all. (I notice
these small things because I am also a photographer- I notice everything.) So,
I have inherited my grandpa’s lack of hair and I am cool with it.
My grandpa had a deep love and appreciation for animals.
When I would visit my grandparents in Orlando, we would always visit Gatorland
Zoo where my grandmother used to work. As we walked around, he would tell me
about the various animals. He would talk to them too, full conversations
sometimes. Our favorite was always Albert, a huge tortoise whose eventual
passing made us both sad. My grandparents would occasionally visit us in Pennsylvania
and he would talk to our pets. In my younger years there was blackie the cat, in
my teenage years my dog Wes. He would ask how they were doing when we talked on
the phone. You could tell he really cared by the way he asked. All these years
later, I find myself talking to animals. Sometimes they talk back if you listen
and pay attention. I love my cats and our dogs, and other folks pets as well.
It’s obvious that I have inherited my grandpa’s love of animals and I quite
enjoy it. Thanks for showing me how to communicate with the birds, the furry
things and our wildlife grandpa. Sometimes it’s much easier than talking with certain
humans!
Grandpa was an avid hunter, I am not. I was brought up with
airplanes instead of guns. But there is little doubt that had I expressed an
interest, he would have taken me under his wing and taught me everything I
needed to know. He belonged to a hunting camp in northern Pennsylvania and went
there as long as his health would allow. He loved being outside, he loved
nature. It would be obvious to anyone who knows me that I have inherited that
same gratitude for the great outdoors. He walked with guns, I walk with a Nikon. Him being the wonderful grandfather that he was, he always took the time to
mention that he really enjoyed what I captured on my hunts. Thanks grandpa, for
passing your love of nature along to me so easily.
When grandpa went to hunting camp, it was filled with
friends. He didn’t always speak to me personally about all these friendships he
was blessed to have, but I know for certain, through stories from various
folks, that he thoroughly enjoyed all of them. He also went to reunions with
his shipmates on the USS Arkansas until they all got too old and voted to
suspend them. Grandpa understood that life without friends would be dull and
losing touch with people you once worked with would be a huge loss for both
parties. I have inherited his appreciation for friendships and keeping in
contact with people I have worked with over the years. There is a lot of value
in these relationships, more than I can express properly. Thanks for setting
that example grandpa.
Grandpa loved a good story and he could tell them well. He
also had a good sense of humor which gave him the tendency to recall the
happier funny ones. When I was just a kid, he often engaged in completely silly
things. When we were out riding around in his old little Ford Ranger pickup, we
would inevitably have to cross some rail road tracks at some point. Grandpa
would blow the horn twice to “let them know we are coming.” I think of this
every time I cross rail road tracks. I might start tooting the horn of my big
rig in happy remembrance. Grandpa could
be so relaxed and humorous that I would have never figured him for a military man
if someone had not told me. I have
inherited my grandpa’s love of a good story and without a doubt, his sense of
humor. Thanks for teaching me how to laugh grandpa. I will never forget the
sound of your laughter.
These are only some of the experiences and memories I have
been blessed to have with my grandpa that I kept tucked away in sunny Florida.
They are happy ones indeed. Now, at forty-three years of age I have found
myself without a living grandfather left in my life. I had both along for the
ride until I was forty. I am so thankful for having actual memories instead of
just stories or pictures. Both have set such bold examples that will leave me
striving to become a better man. I will learn from them long after they have
departed and take comfort knowing that they will still always be there for me shall I need them.
Before I finish writing this story, I must express the
sincere gratitude I feel is owed to my aunt Janice. She changed her life so she
could come home to take care of the people who gave her life. It was rather
difficult for her at times because my grandpa would occasionally be prone to
severe bouts of grumpiness when he wasn’t feeling well, things were not going
his way or he didn’t like what people asked of him. (I may or may not have also
inherited this behavior from my grandfather depending on who you ask. Hint: Do
not ask my wife.) My aunt hung in there
right until the very end and I am very thankful for everything she has done.
Thank-you Janice and I love you.
Some thanks are also in order for my mother who has taken
the role of supporter-at-large. Like me, she has been stuck in Pennsylvania,
but she did have the benefit of a recent visit which I am thankful for. She
arranged and completed the sale of my grandparent’s former house with ten
million other things needing her attention, including her business and her role
as the founder of a fundraising scrapbooking event to benefit a food pantry that
is scheduled for next weekend. My mom also has been supporting her sister via
the phone, email or text whenever needed. I think considering everything that
my mother has on her plate right now she is fully entitled to a mental
breakdown of sorts. But as she has done all her life, she focuses and
prioritizes better than anybody I have ever known. She gets by with a lot of
help from her friends which we both sincerely appreciate. Stay strong mom, I love you.
While my grandpa left us rather hurriedly yesterday, I think
there is a reason for it. He was content with a life well-lived. More than
anything, he knew that he raised two strong women. It brought him comfort knowing
that the wife he left behind (my grandmother) would be looked after by his daughters.
“Under control” was one of his favorite phrases when it came to situations.
Grandpa was tired of his physical problems and felt safe knowing everything was
“under control.” It was time to let go and find peace. And so he did. (You are
in good hands should you ever need anything grandma, I love you!)
As I drove westbound on I-86 in New York last night, I found
my peace with the situation as well. The scattered clouds turned pink making
the scenery so very beautiful in the last few minutes before darkness closed in
for the night. I pressed on thinking about the loss of my grandpa. Without
warning I heard his voice with a slight growl and a hint of southern accent say
very peacefully, “Goodbye Jas, it was fun.” It was very clear and very real. “Yes
it was,” I replied, “I’m glad we had each other.” And I am. I love you grandpa.
Thanks for the memories and thank-you for having played such a big part in
making me into the man I have become.
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