nik8403
11-26-2010, 02:32 PM
It's been four years since my Grandpa Shorty passed away. Four years and I can still hear his laugh, see his smile, smell his aftershave (Old Spice). Four years since he called me on the phone to tell me he was proud of me and four years since he hugged me.
Growing up he was the single most important person in my life. I never wanted to disappoint him or make him mad. I can't even describe how I felt about my grandpa or what an amazing person he was. Any words to describe would be an understatement anyway. He was the Dad I never had and the mom I could go to with anything. He was the spoiling grandpa and the doting grandma. He was everything.
He quit smoking when I was born, for me. When I was little he took me to his cottage on the lake every weekend and taught me to fish and cut the grass, for me. He picked me up from school to take me for lunch, for me.
He came to every concert, play, and assembly, for me. He would purposely stub his toe to make me laugh. Every report card he boasted how proud he was and slipped me some cash. When I was fifteen he taught me to drive, when I was sixteen he bought me my first car. When I graduated with honors, he was the proudest person in the room. He sent me off to college, came and bought me groceries and called me every week.
I have so many memories I can't even being to tell them all. He made every day special. Long johns from Hankerson's every Saturday and Sheboygan hard rolls on the holidays.
Everyone says that they want better for their children and grandchildren, but few actually consistently show the sincerity behind it. This amazing grandfather of mine worked towards a better life for everyone everyday. He came from meager beginnings, leaving school at grade six to work the family farm and working a factory job for 40 years.
Most would despise working endless days at a factory, but not him. He had so much pride for Simplicity. Not because he particularly loved his job, but because he was such an optimistic person. He loved the people he worked with and he loved being able to give to his family what he never had. I'll never forget how happy he was when he retired. Such a proud and happy day for him. He was finally done and ready to live the good life!
Unfortunately retirement wasn't as long as he had anticipated and in 2005 he was diagnosed with cancer. He went through treatment, was better, and then six months later, he, what we call in the cancer field, "lit up like a Christmas tree." Cancer was everywhere. I had a short summer after my junior year of college as I was leaving after only a short break to start my clinical rotation. I came back home in May and spent some time with him. He was in bad shape, but I didn't really know how bad. I went on a short three day vacation and when I got back he was in the hospital. The next day I picked up my grandma and her and I spent the entire day with him. He was almost like his old self cracking jokes, giving the nurses a hard time, and bickering with Grandma. I walked out of the hospital that afternoon feeling happy, well maybe not happy, but content.
Later that night, I went to an assembly to give away a scholarship that my family gives away every year on behalf of my late brother. We got home around 9:00 at night and it wasn't two minutes later and the hospital called telling us that we should get there fast, it wasn't going to be much longer. WHAT?! I wasn't ready for this. We rushed the 20 minutes over there and gramps was completely out it. We were all there, my mom, dad, my brother, my aunt, uncle, cousin, and grandma. Everyone. I held his hand, head on his chest, as he died. I never experienced anything like it, it was peaceful, but I wasn't ready for it. This was the person that was going to see me graduate college, walk me down the aisle, was going to hold my first baby. I had never even thought for a second that he wouldn't be there for these things. What was I going to do?
I don't think I ever had any closure on him dying, that was until yesterday. I wasn't planning on going home for Thanksgiving, but since my grandma had died this year, my family really wanted everyone to be home. I've been reluctant to come for the holidays since Gramps had died four years earlier because it just wasn't the same, I almost felt there was no point. But my aunt insisted that I make the trip because she wanted us all to go through some of his things together.
After dinner my mom and my aunt brought out the famous key chain collection. It was fun to see all the key chains he had collected over the years and Addy especially had a blast digging through them all. There were hundreds. We also went through his old junk drawer. I could smell their house as we dumped out the contents of the drawer. It was fun to be reminded of all that stuff we played with as kids, and now as an adult it was interesting to try and figure out why someone would keep some of the contents.
I felt a little more at peace after seeing his stuff. It had been so long. After we cleaned up all the "junk." My mom and aunt told us that when they were cleaning out the house, they found something interesting in the safe. There, in the safe, was three stacks of bills with each of the three grand kids' names on it written in my grandpas writing. It was so special to see his distinct hand writing after the years. It was so emotional to know that he had the foresight to know that one day his own children would be going through his house and find such a special treasure.
It was an emotional time of everyone, but that wasn't it. When my mom and aunt went to the bank to close everything up, the teller told them that there was a special safety deposit box. In the deposit box were three white letter envelopes. Written on the envelope was, again, the distinct, all capitol letters of a sixth graders writing, frozen in time. Each of our names written with so much care. "To Nikki From Granma and Granpa $***** Spend as you like." I've never let myself cry in front of my parents. Never. Yesterday I did.
I feel so honored to be part of such a special mans family. I wish I could be half the person he was. His sacrifices and love are something I will never be able to describe. I don't know that I'll never open the envelope, it would be tarnishing such a special memory, but I do know, that such a simple message from the grave has inspired me to be a different person.
Growing up he was the single most important person in my life. I never wanted to disappoint him or make him mad. I can't even describe how I felt about my grandpa or what an amazing person he was. Any words to describe would be an understatement anyway. He was the Dad I never had and the mom I could go to with anything. He was the spoiling grandpa and the doting grandma. He was everything.
He quit smoking when I was born, for me. When I was little he took me to his cottage on the lake every weekend and taught me to fish and cut the grass, for me. He picked me up from school to take me for lunch, for me.
He came to every concert, play, and assembly, for me. He would purposely stub his toe to make me laugh. Every report card he boasted how proud he was and slipped me some cash. When I was fifteen he taught me to drive, when I was sixteen he bought me my first car. When I graduated with honors, he was the proudest person in the room. He sent me off to college, came and bought me groceries and called me every week.
I have so many memories I can't even being to tell them all. He made every day special. Long johns from Hankerson's every Saturday and Sheboygan hard rolls on the holidays.
Everyone says that they want better for their children and grandchildren, but few actually consistently show the sincerity behind it. This amazing grandfather of mine worked towards a better life for everyone everyday. He came from meager beginnings, leaving school at grade six to work the family farm and working a factory job for 40 years.
Most would despise working endless days at a factory, but not him. He had so much pride for Simplicity. Not because he particularly loved his job, but because he was such an optimistic person. He loved the people he worked with and he loved being able to give to his family what he never had. I'll never forget how happy he was when he retired. Such a proud and happy day for him. He was finally done and ready to live the good life!
Unfortunately retirement wasn't as long as he had anticipated and in 2005 he was diagnosed with cancer. He went through treatment, was better, and then six months later, he, what we call in the cancer field, "lit up like a Christmas tree." Cancer was everywhere. I had a short summer after my junior year of college as I was leaving after only a short break to start my clinical rotation. I came back home in May and spent some time with him. He was in bad shape, but I didn't really know how bad. I went on a short three day vacation and when I got back he was in the hospital. The next day I picked up my grandma and her and I spent the entire day with him. He was almost like his old self cracking jokes, giving the nurses a hard time, and bickering with Grandma. I walked out of the hospital that afternoon feeling happy, well maybe not happy, but content.
Later that night, I went to an assembly to give away a scholarship that my family gives away every year on behalf of my late brother. We got home around 9:00 at night and it wasn't two minutes later and the hospital called telling us that we should get there fast, it wasn't going to be much longer. WHAT?! I wasn't ready for this. We rushed the 20 minutes over there and gramps was completely out it. We were all there, my mom, dad, my brother, my aunt, uncle, cousin, and grandma. Everyone. I held his hand, head on his chest, as he died. I never experienced anything like it, it was peaceful, but I wasn't ready for it. This was the person that was going to see me graduate college, walk me down the aisle, was going to hold my first baby. I had never even thought for a second that he wouldn't be there for these things. What was I going to do?
I don't think I ever had any closure on him dying, that was until yesterday. I wasn't planning on going home for Thanksgiving, but since my grandma had died this year, my family really wanted everyone to be home. I've been reluctant to come for the holidays since Gramps had died four years earlier because it just wasn't the same, I almost felt there was no point. But my aunt insisted that I make the trip because she wanted us all to go through some of his things together.
After dinner my mom and my aunt brought out the famous key chain collection. It was fun to see all the key chains he had collected over the years and Addy especially had a blast digging through them all. There were hundreds. We also went through his old junk drawer. I could smell their house as we dumped out the contents of the drawer. It was fun to be reminded of all that stuff we played with as kids, and now as an adult it was interesting to try and figure out why someone would keep some of the contents.
I felt a little more at peace after seeing his stuff. It had been so long. After we cleaned up all the "junk." My mom and aunt told us that when they were cleaning out the house, they found something interesting in the safe. There, in the safe, was three stacks of bills with each of the three grand kids' names on it written in my grandpas writing. It was so special to see his distinct hand writing after the years. It was so emotional to know that he had the foresight to know that one day his own children would be going through his house and find such a special treasure.
It was an emotional time of everyone, but that wasn't it. When my mom and aunt went to the bank to close everything up, the teller told them that there was a special safety deposit box. In the deposit box were three white letter envelopes. Written on the envelope was, again, the distinct, all capitol letters of a sixth graders writing, frozen in time. Each of our names written with so much care. "To Nikki From Granma and Granpa $***** Spend as you like." I've never let myself cry in front of my parents. Never. Yesterday I did.
I feel so honored to be part of such a special mans family. I wish I could be half the person he was. His sacrifices and love are something I will never be able to describe. I don't know that I'll never open the envelope, it would be tarnishing such a special memory, but I do know, that such a simple message from the grave has inspired me to be a different person.