I was blessed to live close to my grandpa pretty much my whole life and to know him well. He supported us in all that we did. He came to every school play or award ceremony, choir concert or ballet performance, and attended every birthday. He spoke at my baptism and later gave me his notes for my keepsake. He traveled with us on many vacations always offering for us to ride in their car, sleep in their hotel room, or pay for our dinner. I remember he would let us drive his riding lawn mower all over his backyard and always offered us fresh strawberries and vegetables from his garden. Every time my grandpa would introduce me to someone, I always knew he was proud of me. I remember when I was in 2nd grade I had to get a tooth pulled. Afterwards, my mom and I went up to my grandparents house to visit. I was outside with my grandpa when an old friend drove up the driveway to chat. My grandpa introduced me proudly making me smile. Later in the bathroom I realized my gauze needed to be changed and I had smiled a mouth full of bloody teeth. Gross, right? But he didn't think twice of letting that friend know how great he thought I was. When we were little we got to have sleepovers every once in a while at their house. In the mornings he would always fix us waffles. My grandpa loved to sing and was constantly singing or humming along to any melody he could hear. I remember my grandpa always wore his big cowboy hat. It wasn't until I was a teenager that he retired his cowboy hat and started wearing a fedora-type hat but I always liked to peek into their vacuum closet because high up on the shelf was that old cowboy hat. My grandpa loved snickers candy bars. We always knew he had a stash of them somewhere on the counter by the bread or tucked into the refrigerator keeping cold. When he served at the MTC he brought us with him one day. We got to eat lunch in the cafeteria with the missionaries and it seemed like everyone knew who my grandpa was. I felt so neat walking around with him. My grandpa was in the temple the day I got married and shared in the start of our eternal marriage. He invited Steve and I to move into his house when we had to move out of our apartment when I was 8 months pregnant. He let us take over his basement and offered daily that we could stay as long as we wanted. He was there the day we brought Michael home from the hospital and would always ask what he could do to help. My sweet grandpa (much to my dismay at the time) even would change my laundry over and fold it sometimes when I forgot and left it upstairs. Embarrassed, I would apologize for leaving it up there and he always would say, "I don't mind... what else have I got to do?" He taught me how to cook my first roast and patiently watched me learn. He loved me and I know he loved my husband and little boy. "Grandpa-great" always had a wet, sloppy kiss for each of us. One of my favorite things about my grandpa is his love for the gospel. My grandma and grandpa faithfully read their scriptures together every single day. And they would always have morning and night prayers together. Even on vacation, my grandpa would kneel on the hotel room floor and begin and end his day in prayer. He was a great example to me. I'm very grateful for my fond memories of my grandpa. Read more about my grandpa here.
We were lucky enough to have Steve's parents offer to watch the kids. (Wow... yes kids... we have 2 now.) So they came out to our house and stayed with the kids so Steve and I could go to the funeral. It was a little hard leaving the baby at 14 days old but I was grateful to be able to go. It was fun to see out-of-town family and listen to different memories each one of us has of our grandpa. The cemetery was freezing but it was a neat ceremony. They did a 21-gun salute and presented my mom with an American flag. It was a special day.
No comments:
Post a Comment