My Dad's father was my favorite grand-parent. I know you aren't suppose to have favorites, but, it is totally obvious that he was! He lived on a huge hill in California, and had a farm that included cows, chickens, rabbits, hens, and alligator lizards. It was such a magical, and whimsical place. The deer roamed free throughout his pastures and hills, and occasioned close enough to where we thought we could hear them breathing. And there was the side of the hill that we avoided, where two huge hives made sweet honey for our delight. He drove a big, antique, sky-blue truck, and I loved to go on adventures and errands with him, just the two of us, as we bounced and swayed over the dirt roads.
My grandfather was a "Renaissance Man," in that he did EVERYTHING!! In addition to his wonderful farm, he owned, operated and MADE the delicious chocolates and candy concoctions he sold at his candy store. He also taught himself how to make pottery...learning how to throw the clay on the spinner, creating art with his soft, gnarled hands, putting it in a kiln to bake, then painting vivid blue and brown colors onto the surface. He made me a hanging trivet with my name on it, and it hangs today on the wall in my kitchen. He had a "secret recipe" for the most delicious, warm popcorn on earth--we joke how he managed to leave this world without giving someone the recipe, though many failed attempts were made to copy it's flavor!! He was a scriptorian, a comedian, and had the look and swank of Clark Gable. He loved to play with us when we were young, and there wasn't a visit where he did not launch us flying off the cliff of his property, on his huge tree swing. My grandfather would write me letters, and tell me how much he loved me, and how much artistic talent he thought I had. One of the times he stayed with us, my grandparents slept in my room. After they left, I found a note tucked in the front cover of my scriptures. Penned in my grandfather's tiny script, it told me how much joy they had in the visit, and thanked me for the use of my room and scriptures. I still have that note tucked away...close by when I think of him. He stood by and called my Grandmother, "Beautiful," as she battled cancer. He sealed couples forever in the Oakland temple, and I looked forward to the day when he would preside at my own wedding, and seal me to my beloved.
It was my freshman year at college. I had a great boyfriend, a wonderful group of friends, classes that I loved (and some that I did not!), an RA who hated me and was constantly hassling me about skirt hems, and sitting too close to my boyfriend...Pretty much an excellent blend of the good and the bad!! It was just before finals that December, and I had gone to my room to grab something, when the phone rang. It was my Dad... calling to tell me my darling Grandfather had died. I was numb...I couldn't stop the tears and convulsions as his words sank in. My Grandfather with the twinkling eyes, and zest for life was gone. So suddenly, so unexpected...My soul has never quite mended from the mark his passing left on me. We decided that he left so my Grandmother would not be scared as the cancer finally won...My Grandfather was always the romantic!
So on this Memorial Day, I shout love and praise for my Grandfather. I shout love and praise for the veteran who saw two World Wars...I shout love and praise for the man who's twinkle still resides in the eyes of my father...I shout love and praise for the namesake of my youngest son...I shout love and praise for the man who left this world on December 7th (pearl harbor) and left in his place a space filled with memories of love, laughter and life!!
