A few days ago my grandfather passed away at the age of 99. All of the old adages are true – he’s in a better place now and lived a long, full life, more so than many people – but I’m finding it hard to be okay with that reasoning and not mourn the fact that I won’t see him again.
Since he turned 92, the thought was always in my head at the end of our summer vacation, “Will Granddad be here next year?” And he always was. He was in good spirits when I’d see him and, though his body was beginning to fail him the past few years, his mind was intact.
He was a good, good man with the most positive outlook on life. He was born in 1914 (the Romanovs were still in power in Russia, WWI had just begun and Charlie Chaplin made his debut) and saw tremendous change throughout his time, from the Ford Model T pickup truck his father owned, to the VW Passat he owned. He loved computers and technology and, maybe as a side effect of living through the Great Depression, had an entrepreneurial spirit. After retiring from Lockheed at age 63, he started his own real estate company and also made a profit buying and renovating homes for resale.
He was good with money and watched his investments carefully. When I was in my early 20s, I remember walking with him one day and passing up a penny on the street. Granddad asked me, “why don’t you pick that up?” I responded, “it’s only a penny.” And he said, “there were days during the Depression when all I had in my pocket was one penny, but with that I was never broke.” He had a plaque in his living room which always summed it up for me, “God helps those who help themselves. The government helps those who don’t.”
As far back as I can remember, I have such fond memories of both my Granddad and Grandmom. They lovingly raised three sons and doted on their four grandkids. There are nine great-grandchildren in the mix, and my grandparents would light up when any of the little people were around. My grandparents’ house was often the central gathering place for birthdays and holidays and I vividly remember how it looked, the delicious smells from the kitchen, the echo of shoes on their parquet wood floor, and the laughter and chatting of 20 relatives together under one roof.
After my grandmother’s death in 2004, my always practical grandfather knew he would be lonely on his own so, at the age of 89, he joined an online dating site. Through that, he met his second wife, almost 20 years his junior, who stayed with him through sickness and health and brought happiness to his life. Though it was becoming difficult towards the end, she gave him the gift of being able to stay in his own home, the place full of so many of his happy memories.
I am grateful that I had some good visits with my grandfather this summer, but sad that I didn’t make time for even more. I wish we could be in the throes of planning a 100th birthday party for him this December, but I’m sure he’s also quite content to be reunited with my grandmother, watching us from above. He was my last surviving grandparent, so it is the end of an era, but what a great one.
