Words From My Grandfather

I was told to "go with the flow" of the conversation, regardless of topic. I am glad I took that advice.

Nobody can do for little children what grandparents do. Grandparents sort of sprinkle stardust over the lives of little children.

Alex Haley

Another repost.

This one from February 2023.

Questions Attempted

If you're lucky enough to still have grandparents, visit them, cherish them and celebrate them while you can.

Regina Brett

Silly me. I said the words out loud before going.

"He's going to be in bad shape."

I thought I believed them, but I didn't. I was shocked at this realization. Why would I say what I didn't believe? I guess there's more work to be done on that front. I want to be truthful, not just to myself, but to everyone.

But I wasn't. I didn't even know it. Perhaps I just underestimated the situation. That's a working theory, but I am unsure. So, I will go with worst case scenario. I tricked myself and ended up tricking the people I spoke to about it.

I said he just had a stroke. My grandfather. Pop-pop wasn't doing well, and he may not be mentally available. I said these things, but I was optimistic going in. That didn't last long.

I know I went in with youthful optimism. I have the evidence. An entire page of questions I wanted to ask him. I tried, even still. It didn't work out well for the questions themselves, but we still had conversation.

That conversation was excellent, much to my surprise.

When I walked in, he was with his physical therapist. He looked smaller than normal and unkempt. I cannot recall a time I have seen Pop-pop that way. Unkempt. Of course, I hadn't noticed him smaller. That happens when you're stuck in a hospital bed for a while. He was unshaven as well. Again, I am unable to recall an unshaven Pop-pop. All of that was jarring.

But I am a big boy, or so I tell my son. So, I sucked it up, pretended nothing was amiss, and made my usual jokes about everything. I got some chuckles and some smiles. His mouth, mostly agape at this stage, would tighten. The corners of his mouth then pulled into a smile, with a familiar effortlessness. That was nice. I hope I keep that in my memories for a while.

Notes Taken

I don't think there is ever a wrong time to sit down and listen to your grandparents' stories.

Rege-Jean Page

I went into the visit expecting to annotate his answers to my questions. I got one and I count that as a win. I just wanted his middle name. Reed. His grandmother's maiden name. Wonderful.

But that's all I got. I decided to take notes on our interactions anyways. At the beginning he knew who I was. I am confident about that. He asked if the last time I came to his house and removed those trees I got paid a fair price. We did our usual back and forth of arguing over paying me at all and he wanted us to do the arithmetic and walk through time spent working. Then he fell asleep in thought.

I assumed that was it for talking. I assumed the visit would end with him still asleep, but he woke up about an hour later. After another thirty or so minutes of watching the latter part of an episode of "Gunsmoke" and the beginning of an episode of "Andy Griffith" he started talking again. This time commenting on the show.

"I haven't seen her before."

He was referencing a character on "Andy Griffith". I hadn't either. I, of course, let him know.

After that, he began really chatting. It seemed to be about everything he had come to his mind. I loved it.

"Clemson... tried so hard to live up... this contributed to competing in war which saved their butts."

I couldn't follow that one, but I still wrote it down.

"We can go play baseball in the sand."

I nodded. That would be fun, so why not?

Then he started talking about my kids. About their interests. He recognized me still. Or he recognized me again, I'm not sure.

"Put the ball in his hand. Let him hold it. Have them try different sports and find their interests. Pair their personality with the activity and they won't mind working hard for it. They will discover their interests as they grow."

Holy crap, Pop-pop. What was that? It was clear and he appeared as fresh as ever. At least for that. I almost didn't get it down before it left my mind. Omitting this from my notes would have been a great tragedy of time. It would have been lost in the wind and I have thought about it since it was spoken. Wonderful advice.

"Do you know where my license is?"

I don't think so, Pop-pop.

"I've got to go pick up the booklet so I can get my license. I need to study for the test. Did you know they may not let me take it?"

Yes, Pop-pop. It's a travesty for sure. He was worried about taking his driver's test and getting the booklet needed to study, of course. But when? It seemed recent. He had alluded to breaking slower than he used to.

"Where did you look for that?"

I am confused again, but I just waited.

"It was a big thing a couple weeks ago. Did you see the new restaurant? It's a mix of three... Your kids would like it."

My heart swelled at each mention of my kids. I love this man. My grandfather. A wonderful human being.

He started feeling at his face. Running his fingers over his stubble as old men do.

"I bought a razor a while ago. A Norelco. It's in a box in the house, with more medicine than you've ever seen!"

A chuckle as he said that, his usual smile on his face.

"What good's a box in the house if you're not at the house with the box?"

The smile left. A look of consternation in its place.

"Play with your boy."

Yes sir.

"He needs it."

Yes sir.

"Read and learn what you can when you can. (In reference to my kids) Be on board with the answer when they need it."

Yes sir...

A pause in the conversation. My turn to ask questions. It was about any girl he may like. An attempt to gauge where he was at...

"I loved square dancing with all of them. Sandy. Dancing is good exercise and fun."

Sandy. Is he back there now?

"Well, that's my offer."

I'm in the dark on that one. I don't know what it was about.

"Kitty already knew how to square dance. She was good, even with the leg. Square dancing is good exercise."

I agreed with him, but the repetition made me wince. I hope he didn't notice.

"Hank Williams and dancing, you can't beat that."

I do like music, Pop-pop. That sounds great.

"Smyrna, Delaware. Right in the middle of the state."

I had asked recently where he lived. I guess that was coming up.

"We should do it. If they can do it with a restaurant..."

I like a good project, but I'm not sure what we're talking about now.

"Imagine what this group could build."

I am trying to. I asked who else was in the group.

"You contribute like everybody else."

Thank you. He was talking about an idea for games in the backyard. I got lost in the conversation. It brought back memories for me, and I forgot about my notetaking. We spoke on where he lived, in Atlanta, where he set up that putt putt course in the basement. And the games we used to play and the stations with one-on-one games or competitions we would all do. All the grandkids.

Good memories. Great ideas. We were planning new stations and a new back deck.

Kitty walked in. She asked what we were up to. He told her about our plans. I decided to bring up the parts of conversation she was mentioned in, the square dancing. She made the leg portion make sense. She had a hurt leg at the time.

I had to leave though. I needed to get some dinner for the family. Saying goodbye didn't feel right and didn't feel possible. I said it, but I don't know to whom or if it was to anyone. I didn't want to.

Before I left, he wanted to teach me square dance calls. He had Kitty stand in front of me and he made some calls. I didn't know them, so we just did the Do-Si-Do. Standard move.

I left with renewed optimism, despite the original optimism vanishing upon seeing him.

Perhaps not optimism about his condition, but optimism that the future will still be there and that he will always be a part of it.

Even in his own way.

Likely through games in the backyard.

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