On Sunday I had a call from my Mom. She was concerned about my Grandpa, who advised her and Dad on Friday that he ‘can’t do this anymore’. His appetite had been non-existent for weeks. So I chopped up apples and made up my apple crisp and down we went at 4pm.
This turned out to be a special night for me. As soon as we arrived I went in to see Grandpa. I reached out and put my young hand on his old hand and waited. The room was warm and dimly lit with only the light from his chair stand. His eyes were faded and far away and I waited until they slowly focused and began to see me.
I told him I’d come to see him, that I’d brought my apple crisp. He nodded and gathered himself and said “I miss her too much” as he twisted his wedding band. My throat locked up and I took a deep breath as he continued and advised me in low gravely words, his eyes glancing away, “You’re Marji’s oldest girl. I’m sorry but I am too tired for company. Thank you for coming by.”
I nodded, acknowledging his dismissal.... but I was determined not to push and to push at the same time. I smiled at him sideways, appealing to him as much as I could, “Maybe you could come out in a little while and try a little of my apple crisp. ...I made it for you.” I stood up only when I saw an infinitesimal nod that meant 'perhaps'... but less promising was the click of the door that he stood to shut behind me.
I had put the apple dish in the oven when we first walked in and it was nearly done when dinner was done too. When the smell of apple, cinnamon , nutmeg and brown sugar was intoxicating the house, I heard his bedroom door click open and looked over to see my Grandpa standing there watching.
I had a moment. There was my grey, faded and so thin Grandpa slowly straightening until he was the dark haired dashing man in the old photos I like to look at. He knew he was dashing, he knew who he was, what he thought and for all his gruffness there was a wealth of intuition and kindness.
And then the moment passed and there was Grandpa again. Clear sharp old eyes, eyes that saw how much I really wanted to see him once more and he asked aloud if he could have some of the apple crisp I had made for him.
We visited, we talked, we looked at pictures, he ate every single drop of sugar and apple, he told me I had some sense and teased me about my crooked front tooth. He reminded me how important it is to write down dates on my favorite pictures because someday, the summers would mix into each other and one could no longer be sure of when it was taken.
Reader, a while ago, in April of 2008 there was another moment with him. I went in to visit with my Grandmother. Her health was badly declined but she had Always rallied for visits with me. As I had done so many times before, I knelt at her chair, I took her hand and I began to tell her a silly story about my Sally, or Daisy as she had liked to call my dog.
But she did not know me. She could not come back from the world her faded eyes were looking into. I was so caught by surprise I froze, in a child like panic, distraught and nearly in tears, I was ready to plead she see me –when my gruff Grandpa, a man I’d always been a bit wary of… reached over, patted my shoulder and said “Come visit with me child”, saving me from my embarrassing distress with his compassion.
We started a conversation and I had the pleasure, for the first time, of really conversing with my Grandpa. And since this moment, even after Grandmother's passing, this would happen again and again, we would talk about the people he knew, about the world as it was then and is now, about things I do (sports) and places we had seen. We never had a serious or life changing conversation; but simple sunny, easy and breathing ones.
We started a conversation and I had the pleasure, for the first time, of really conversing with my Grandpa. And since this moment, even after Grandmother's passing, this would happen again and again, we would talk about the people he knew, about the world as it was then and is now, about things I do (sports) and places we had seen. We never had a serious or life changing conversation; but simple sunny, easy and breathing ones.
Then, this last February, 2010, we celebrated his ninety fifth birthday. He was excited to see all of us and so happy we were there. He grinned and laughed quietly... but after that evening he has slowly gone away. Throughout this year I see him less on visits and when I did, we talked very little and sometimes I felt he didn't see me at all.
Until this last Sunday, when he reached out and ‘patted’ my shoulder and let me talk with him again. May I remember his grace Reader. May I be mindful of his kindness and hold on to the honor of being related to someone so insightful and gentle to me.
