This is a picture of my dad and my grandpa in Newport, RI (August 2004).I was listening to the radio at work today and the song "Live like you were dying" came on. I started to get emotional. The type of emotional where you get misty eyed. It was difficult to hold it back. I couldn't stop thinking of my grandpa and the few times that I went fishing with him, going to the Irish Pub for Shirley Temples, drives by the bay, him and grandma coming over on Wednesday afternoons, going sailing on his 80th birthday and going to the beach by his house. My grandfather past away a few years ago and every once and a while I just miss him.
There are several circumstances in my life which have made me reflect about my family. More importantly the role of men in families has been prominant in my thoughts. Thinking of my grandpa made me think of just how lucky I was to have him in my life.
I never got to know my maternal grandfather. Unfortunately, he past away when I was a toddler and he was relatively young. The grandfather that I thought of today is my "paternal" grandfather. However, what many people don't know is that he is technically my step-grandfather. My grandfather, Cal Kenyon, was not my father's birth father. He was my dad's step-dad, but you never heard him referred to him as that. I didn't know it until I was a teenager. When I was in Young Women's we were doing geneaology and that is when I found out. Grandpa accepted and loved my dad and my uncle and they accepted and loved him. The key to this, love and acceptance. I can gaurantee that they did not always agree on everything. Grandpa was Navy and my dad and uncle were Army. Aside from that, they all made different choices in life and had different lifestyles but they accepted and loved each other for who they were - family.
In May 2006 I visited Rhode Island and went to lunch with my Grandpa, just he and I. We went to Duffy's Tavern, one of my grandpa's hangouts. It was such a nice afternoon. He told me for the millionth time of how he went to pick me up at pre-school and I was at the window jumping and yelling "That's my grandpa, that's my grandpa!" It had been over 30 years since that day he picked me up from preschool and he just smiled and loved thinking of that moment. I would love to hear him tell me that story again. He reminisced about my grandmother and how much he missed her (she past away 15 years ago). We talked of everyone in the family and I told him of my new family. I wish he would have had the opportunity to meet my husband. I know he thought the world of Jeff for making me happy. I think he would have enjoyed telling Jeff his stories and getting to know each other.
My grandpa was a character. He was a gentle giant with a heart of gold. He loved lifesavers and cookies. He didn't like to throw much of anything away and was a frugal man. He is known in the family for sending unique gifts; something he found along the way, the transfer station or he found a great deal at the Salvation Army store and thought someone might enjoy it. We might not have understood why the particular gift at the time and then he would recall some random conversation you had with him that inspired the gift. He remembered the little things in life. He used to ship me italian sausage that was made in Rhode Island. He knew that I used italian sausage when I made lasagna and couldn't find good italian sausage in Kansas. His dress shirts were Hawaiian shirts. I have one of those shirts hanging in my closet right now. In honor of my grandfather we pallbearers, my brothers and sister and I, each wore one of his shirts. First and foremost, he loved my grandmother above all else. He was a family man, my grandma and the boys meant everything to him and as time went by his grandchildren and great grandchildren as well.
There are several circumstances in my life which have made me reflect about my family. More importantly the role of men in families has been prominant in my thoughts. Thinking of my grandpa made me think of just how lucky I was to have him in my life.
I never got to know my maternal grandfather. Unfortunately, he past away when I was a toddler and he was relatively young. The grandfather that I thought of today is my "paternal" grandfather. However, what many people don't know is that he is technically my step-grandfather. My grandfather, Cal Kenyon, was not my father's birth father. He was my dad's step-dad, but you never heard him referred to him as that. I didn't know it until I was a teenager. When I was in Young Women's we were doing geneaology and that is when I found out. Grandpa accepted and loved my dad and my uncle and they accepted and loved him. The key to this, love and acceptance. I can gaurantee that they did not always agree on everything. Grandpa was Navy and my dad and uncle were Army. Aside from that, they all made different choices in life and had different lifestyles but they accepted and loved each other for who they were - family.
In May 2006 I visited Rhode Island and went to lunch with my Grandpa, just he and I. We went to Duffy's Tavern, one of my grandpa's hangouts. It was such a nice afternoon. He told me for the millionth time of how he went to pick me up at pre-school and I was at the window jumping and yelling "That's my grandpa, that's my grandpa!" It had been over 30 years since that day he picked me up from preschool and he just smiled and loved thinking of that moment. I would love to hear him tell me that story again. He reminisced about my grandmother and how much he missed her (she past away 15 years ago). We talked of everyone in the family and I told him of my new family. I wish he would have had the opportunity to meet my husband. I know he thought the world of Jeff for making me happy. I think he would have enjoyed telling Jeff his stories and getting to know each other.
My grandpa was a character. He was a gentle giant with a heart of gold. He loved lifesavers and cookies. He didn't like to throw much of anything away and was a frugal man. He is known in the family for sending unique gifts; something he found along the way, the transfer station or he found a great deal at the Salvation Army store and thought someone might enjoy it. We might not have understood why the particular gift at the time and then he would recall some random conversation you had with him that inspired the gift. He remembered the little things in life. He used to ship me italian sausage that was made in Rhode Island. He knew that I used italian sausage when I made lasagna and couldn't find good italian sausage in Kansas. His dress shirts were Hawaiian shirts. I have one of those shirts hanging in my closet right now. In honor of my grandfather we pallbearers, my brothers and sister and I, each wore one of his shirts. First and foremost, he loved my grandmother above all else. He was a family man, my grandma and the boys meant everything to him and as time went by his grandchildren and great grandchildren as well.
I was blessed to be his granddaughter.
