One of my favorite parts of my early elementary school days involved shopping (no surprise there). Every year, around Christmas, "Santa's Workshop" would come to town. It set up shop in our Gymnacafetorium, and we bought wonderful goods for our families and friends. Over the years, I found a quality friendship necklace for Audie Horrall, a crocheted snowflake for my mom, and some other fabulous gifts for lucky recipients. The best year by far was the year of the award ribbons. They looked like grand prize ribbons from the county fair, but they were attached to safety pins. Wearable art, pals. That year, Santa's Workshop made one of the best Christmas memories because my cousin Matthew and I (an hour away from each other in our respective schools) had each purchased a ribbon for our grandparents. I got "Classy Lady" for Grammy; he got "The Boss" for Grampy. They still have those ribbons. At some point, before I was born, someone (one of the grandkids?) began calling Grampy "The Boss," and the name just stuck. Whether it was because he made up his own words or insisted we keep our feet off the walls or made the very best cheeseburgers, I do not know. Regardless, he's still the boss, and this is for him.
I grew up an hour and a half from my grandparents in Evansville. When I came to town, they always made it count. My memories of overnights there are all wonderful, though Grampy likes to remind me of my first little slumber party that did not go well. I was very little, and he says I woke him up in the middle of the night by screaming at the top of my little lungs (I was really loud when upset. I'm still working on that.), "I WANT MY MOMMMYYYY!"
Things looked up, though, and subsequent visits consisted of packing as much fun as possible into the time we had. I found such comfort in the consistency there. For instance, I knew upon my arrival Grampy would go out to the yardbarn and retrieve my favorite toy--The Castle.
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| I have to tell you that I had no idea what this was called, so I googled "play castle 1970's" and it was the FIRST picture that came up! |
We also spent hours playing catch with the velcro mitts and scoops. What amazes me about Grampy in those days is not what I remember but what I don't remember--a lack of patience. He never made me feel like I was irritating (I've seen home videos and know this could not have been reality) or like he didn't have time to spare. He always seemed happy to continue playing with me. That meant so much to me then and means even more now that I am familiar with how exhausting kids can be! Even during long car rides, he remained patient and even participated in endless games of "I'm going on a trip, and I'm going to bring..." That takes a good man, am I right? He may have been the boss, but he always seemed happy enough to be my playmate.
I was probably not even ten years old when I discovered my Grampy had Fred Astaire feet. He's the best dancer I know. He has tried many times to teach me, but he dances circles around me (literally). We would put an old record on in the living room, and Grampy would take me to school. My problem, I discovered, is that I have a difficult time not trying to lead. My partner was long-suffering, always correcting with a smile and encouraging me. As you might imagine, this lesson has played itself out time and again in my story of grace. I am grateful for Grampy's example and for my infinitely patient Heavenly Father who bears with me as I flounder and insist my feet march forward while I slowly learn to fall back and follow His lead.
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| Dancing in the living room while my Great Gram Reeb looks on |
When I moved to Evansville for college, I got to spend a lot more time at my grandparents' house. I lived on my own, yes, but I spent many nights with Grammy and Grampy. They were a huge support during difficult times. It was such a relief to walk into their house and feel that comfort. During the summer of 2007, I decided to just move right on in. They had no objections, and I lived there until school started up again. I will always remember it as one of the greatest summers of my entire life. Every morning, I would wake up to a good breakfast before going to work all day and returning for a wonderful dinner. Grampy sets such a great example of staying healthy, and I learned a lot just by watching him. He works hard, and he plays hard. When I look at him, I see the son of a mother who suffered great loss but kept going; I see the little boy who had to go to work at a bakery to support his family when his father passed away; I see the handsome sailor who had to leave his wife and baby unexpectedly to go overseas with the Navy; I see the man who worked at Alcoa for decades; I see the man who now stays fitter and healthier at eighty-one than I am at twenty-five. I also see the man who dealt with some incredibly difficult circumstances but speaks about them without self-pity. He would sooner tell you about the makeshift, death-defying skiing he did on two pieces of wood or the piano player in the tavern next door that helped lull him to sleep at night or funny stories about his Navy days. Perhaps that is why we call him the boss.
I think one of the greatest things my Grampy has shown me is what a great husband should look like. Matt and I are often compared to my grandparents, and that really is not an accident. In my mind, my ideal man was the combination of all the great men in my life, and Grampy was a big part of that. He has been a devoted husband to my Grammy for sixty-two years, and they look and act like they just found each other yesterday. Any dummy would know to sit down and take notes. Sometimes, when I think about my loving, affectionate, patient, silly, hardworking, full-of-faith husband, I realize he shares many of Grampy's best traits. When the four of us are together, I have to laugh at the similarities of our personalities. And I always think the best is yet to come. I was always (and continue to be) such a hopeless romantic. I needed to believe I could find a love to make me giggle and steal kisses in the kitchen while my children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren roll their eyes and laugh. I wanted a husband who would stay by my side in the hospital and sing our song to me as my Grampy did for Grammy just a couple of years ago after she had surgery. I will never, as long as I live, forget that moment. The whole world disappeared around them, and together they sang, "Because of You" by Tony Bennett in the middle of that hospital room. My grandfather has been such a great influence on my life and my marriage. Grampy, thank you for teaching me to work hard, not take life too seriously, love deeply, and set my standards high when it came to beginning and working on my own marriage. To borrow from your song, "because of you, my romance had its start." I love you!
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