My Grandpa

My grandpa- he wasn’t super easy to be around, or easy to get to know.  But for some reason, even when I was young, I was determined to know him.  I loved him as a Grandpa but also I think I had a little of God’s love for him.

It has been 12 years sees he passed away.  So many times in that 12 years I have wished I could talk to him- wished he could meet someone or make me laugh.

He had big hands-my dad has them too.  I loved his big, old hands.

He was always looking for an angle to give me crap.  He loved to argue and I loved to fight back.  I never doubted he loved me.  Even though I am pretty sure he never said it.  His touch was rare and cherished.  This picture always stands out to me because he put his hands on my shoulders.  It meant a lot to me. 

I was sick a lot as a kid (still am really)- my stomach hates me.  I worried all the time.  I would stress out over school and get sick.  My mom and dad were both working then so he would pick me up.  He never made me feel bad for being sick.  I knew he was glad to pick me up- said, “Don’t worry Dr. Hardt will fix you up” or “Are you sure you aren’t faking so you can come over?”. 

His car smelled- he smelled, like oil and sweat and bacon grease.  After he died I had a few things that smelled like him.  I kept them for a long time.  It was sad when the smell was gone.

He loved Rummy- he never let me win, and I never won.  He made the most AMAZING scrambled eggs- probably horrible for you but AMAZING.  I try to recreate them but can’t. 

He had green cups with handles.  He would make hot cocoa for the kids and we would always have it in those cups. 

He wouldn’t kill big bugs at The Lake house (and let me tell you there were a lot!) He always said they weren’t hurting anybody. I didn’t agree…I think I lost too much sleep thinking about the big creepy bugs. 

He was always busy doing something, collecting cans- fiddling around.  It was hard when he got weak- hard to see him stop being able to mow the lawn or walk down to The Lake from the lake house. 

 

He was a collector- I don’t mean that like collecting stamps- I mean collecting EVERYTHING!  When he died and we helped clean out the house, I was so frustrated at him!  Who needs 12 bottles of bleach …there was a car- buried in one of the garages.  I had never even seen it before!  Out of control! 

He always said he wanted to make it till his 80^th birthday and he did.  Not by much but he did.

I remember telling him I want him to be at my wedding.  He laughed and told me I better hurry up.  I was still in high school.  I was 17 when he passed away.

I remember when I found out he died.  I remember like it was yesterday.  My mom, dad, and I had been talking about  grandpa.  The phone rang.  I saw on caller id that it was my Aunt Adair.  I knew.  I couldn’t answer.  I made my dad answer.  I still remember the sound my dad made on the phone.  Don’t think I could explain it, but it was heartbreaking.

I wish he could have met my husband and my little boy.  I wish I could call him sometimes, not that he really liked to answer the phone.

I have been thinking the last few days and I could add a lot to this, but I realize  the depth of a loved one just can't all fit in a blog post so I will leave it at that.  A little piece of my grandpa.