As a small child, I had several opportunities to spend time with my paternal grandparents. I remember my grandmother taking me and my sister into her bedroom to let us try on jewelry from her special hand-crafted box. I remember eating her chicken and dumplings. I even remember dressing up in nurses outfits to visit when Grandpa had a minor procedure done on one of his eyes that required a patch. Always the drama queen of the family, I promptly slapped my forehead with the palm of my right hand before falling down backwards in a faint, all at the sight of the patch.
I remember sitting on Grandpa's lap in his chair in the sitting room (living room?) and getting chinny-pies from his rough-with-stubble chin. Of course, I also remember the games of War in the same room with their Snoopy face cards. I think I always won, too, which is curious considering the game has absolutely no strategy. (This was before he taught us how to play poker.)
Some of my favorite memories are of the times we got to spend the night at Grandma and Grandpa's. There was one time when they spent the night with us while our parents went on an anniversary trip. I remember that I tried to convince Grandma on the first night that I didn't need to brush my teeth (I think I was five at the time). I don't think I won that battle, but I do remember trying. The best times were at their house, though.
I remember one specific time when we had canned pear halves with dinner. I cut my pear all by myself, and I remember how impressed Grandma said she was with me, which really pleased me. One of these times they drove us home, and Grandma asked us to sing some primary songs for her. Other than random memories of Dad giving Grandma allergy shots and one Fall when she gave us candy corn when we visited, I don't remember much else about my grandmother. I was seven when she passed away.
One strong memory I have of my grandpa comes from this era, though, when we would still spend the night with them. I know Grandma must have still been alive because I don't think we ever spent the night again after she was gone, but for some reason this memory is of just me and Grandpa. We were spending the night, and I convinced Grandpa to watch a movie with me after dinner. I don't remember what we watched (probably Little Rascals or The Reluctant Dragon or maybe a Peanuts movie). When the movie was over, Grandpa suggested that we go to bed. My parents can attest to the fact that from a very young age I was resistant to bedtime and soon became a night-owl as bad as my brother. Well, I convinced Grandpa that I was not tired and I wanted him to read me bedtime stories. (Negotiation was also a word I learned very young.) Grandpa agreed to read to me, and so I chose some books and we got comfortable in his recliner in the TV room. Sitting on his lap, I specifically remember him reading "Stand Back Said the Elephant, I'm Going to Sneeze." I got my way so successfully, that it was 11:30 according to the clock on the mantle when Grandpa finally insisted that it was time for both of us to go to bed.
The next morning, Grandpa cooked breakfast. I don't know where Grandma was -- she must have been sick at this point, I suppose. But I was fascinated that my grandpa could cook at all, so I wanted to stand next to the stove and watch him cook the eggs. Grandpa was of course not happy with me standing right next to the stove, so he told me to go sit down at the kitchen table. I made the classic mistake of trying to out-stubborn a man who had served in the army for years during WWII as an officer. I said, "No, I want to watch you cook the eggs!" But Grandpa had no patience for such a whim even from me. We argued briefly and then his voice became very stern and he looked down at me with his piercing blue eyes, "You go sit at the table. NOW!" Needless to say I went straight to the table, sat down, and stared at nothing in particular as unshed tears blurred my vision. I recovered fairly quickly, however, reminding myself that Grandpa used to be in the army and was therefore not used to anyone disobeying orders.
Looking back on it, of course Grandpa did not want a little girl standing next to a hot stove, but I also think my grandma must not have been doing well at that point. And besides, I had already kept him up until 11:30 the night before. And so I treasure the memory of sitting on his lap, listening to him read stories.
I have many happy memories of Grandpa after Grandma passed away -- sixteen years worth, I suppose, of music, poker, and story-telling. But I especially like to remember the grandfather who played cards with me and welcomed me into his lap to read me stories and give me chinny-pie; he was a sweetheart.
I remember sitting on Grandpa's lap in his chair in the sitting room (living room?) and getting chinny-pies from his rough-with-stubble chin. Of course, I also remember the games of War in the same room with their Snoopy face cards. I think I always won, too, which is curious considering the game has absolutely no strategy. (This was before he taught us how to play poker.)
Some of my favorite memories are of the times we got to spend the night at Grandma and Grandpa's. There was one time when they spent the night with us while our parents went on an anniversary trip. I remember that I tried to convince Grandma on the first night that I didn't need to brush my teeth (I think I was five at the time). I don't think I won that battle, but I do remember trying. The best times were at their house, though.
I remember one specific time when we had canned pear halves with dinner. I cut my pear all by myself, and I remember how impressed Grandma said she was with me, which really pleased me. One of these times they drove us home, and Grandma asked us to sing some primary songs for her. Other than random memories of Dad giving Grandma allergy shots and one Fall when she gave us candy corn when we visited, I don't remember much else about my grandmother. I was seven when she passed away.
One strong memory I have of my grandpa comes from this era, though, when we would still spend the night with them. I know Grandma must have still been alive because I don't think we ever spent the night again after she was gone, but for some reason this memory is of just me and Grandpa. We were spending the night, and I convinced Grandpa to watch a movie with me after dinner. I don't remember what we watched (probably Little Rascals or The Reluctant Dragon or maybe a Peanuts movie). When the movie was over, Grandpa suggested that we go to bed. My parents can attest to the fact that from a very young age I was resistant to bedtime and soon became a night-owl as bad as my brother. Well, I convinced Grandpa that I was not tired and I wanted him to read me bedtime stories. (Negotiation was also a word I learned very young.) Grandpa agreed to read to me, and so I chose some books and we got comfortable in his recliner in the TV room. Sitting on his lap, I specifically remember him reading "Stand Back Said the Elephant, I'm Going to Sneeze." I got my way so successfully, that it was 11:30 according to the clock on the mantle when Grandpa finally insisted that it was time for both of us to go to bed.
The next morning, Grandpa cooked breakfast. I don't know where Grandma was -- she must have been sick at this point, I suppose. But I was fascinated that my grandpa could cook at all, so I wanted to stand next to the stove and watch him cook the eggs. Grandpa was of course not happy with me standing right next to the stove, so he told me to go sit down at the kitchen table. I made the classic mistake of trying to out-stubborn a man who had served in the army for years during WWII as an officer. I said, "No, I want to watch you cook the eggs!" But Grandpa had no patience for such a whim even from me. We argued briefly and then his voice became very stern and he looked down at me with his piercing blue eyes, "You go sit at the table. NOW!" Needless to say I went straight to the table, sat down, and stared at nothing in particular as unshed tears blurred my vision. I recovered fairly quickly, however, reminding myself that Grandpa used to be in the army and was therefore not used to anyone disobeying orders.
Looking back on it, of course Grandpa did not want a little girl standing next to a hot stove, but I also think my grandma must not have been doing well at that point. And besides, I had already kept him up until 11:30 the night before. And so I treasure the memory of sitting on his lap, listening to him read stories.
I have many happy memories of Grandpa after Grandma passed away -- sixteen years worth, I suppose, of music, poker, and story-telling. But I especially like to remember the grandfather who played cards with me and welcomed me into his lap to read me stories and give me chinny-pie; he was a sweetheart.
3 comments:
Something I didn't realize until Mom pointed it out, was that Grandpa rarely hugged, but you and I always hugged and kissed him and he always let us.
The memories you have of your grandparents are very special. They were an important source of love and encouragement. But I must point out that you were also an important source of love and encouragement for your Grandpa as a widower. He told me more than once that it was the thought of living to see his Grandchildren grow-up and make a success of their lives that kept him going. He recalled with happiness the informal concerts, dinners and fun times. They filled his lonely hours with joy. He was proud of the accomplishments of his grandchildren. He not only allowed the hugs and kisses but needed them. Mutti
He was very tender to you grandchildren and you were very important to him. Papa
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