Today's Beema's Bedtime Story was Grandpa Grumps by Katrina Moore. The adorable illustrations and sweet tale of a granddaughter's attempt to connect, find common ground with her grandpa brought tears to my eyes, and allowed fond memories to surface.
I, too, had a "grumpy grandpa," by all accounts, but he was kind and patient with me. His name was Russell, but everyone called him, "Shorty." When my grandma died, he came to live with us, splitting time between my family in Florida and my aunt's in Ohio. I was eight when he moved in, shy and uncertain of him, given his grumpy reputation! He was home during the day, though, and I was lonely, so while my parents worked, we hung out together. He'd take me to a local auto repair shop where he had friends who hung out, drank coffee and talked about..well, who knows. I didn't pay attention to the conversation; I was just happy to be out and about with him, tooling around in his little truck with the camper top. We found our common ground over fishing (well, I sat on the side of the canal and made bait from Wonder Bread) and our love of animals. He and I once rescued a tortoise from the middle of the road and named him "Charlie." (It turns out, Grandpa nicknamed everything, "Charlie.") A lifetime gardener, he and grandma would show up for Florida visits with their trunk laden down with veggies for us. To this day, I've never eaten a better tomato! They never owned their own home, but even when residing in a tiny apartment over a strip mall, he somehow found a way to tend a garden. He'd make a deal with some friend or another to "borrow" a plot of land, am sure the landowner was repaid in warm-from-the-ground peppers, 'maters and cukes. Not willing to give that up even when he lived with us in Suburbia, he dug up a section of our yard and got to work. He let me plant flowers, and laughed uproariously when I poured an entire packet of seeds into one hole, resulting in the biggest marigold "bush" I've ever seen.
We spent a summer fishing, watching tv together (Sanford & Sons was a favorite of his) in the little back bedroom next to mine, and generally getting to know each other. He wasn't a very chatty man, but he had strong opinions and wasn't afraid to share them when necessary.
 |
| Grandpa & Mom |
 |
| Aunt Katie, Grandpa, Me |
 |
 |
| He bought me this organ for Christmas, I drove my parents crazy playing it! |
The last time I saw my grandpa was Christmas of 1981 when I was 16 years old, his last trip to Florida before he was diagnosed with lung cancer. As a coal miner and longtime smoker, this didn't come as a surprise to us, but it was devastating nonetheless. Despite his short stature, he was strong, independent and feisty and didn't let anyone take care of him, refused to move in with my aunt even when his health was failing. She visited daily, though, and found him early one morning, having passed away peacefully in his sleep in his little trailer in the woods, surrounded by nature & the squirrel he trained to eat peanuts out of his hand (can you guess the squirrel's name?).
I think of my grandparents often now that I myself am a grandma. Though we didn't get to visit as often as I'd like, my childhood is imprinted with loving memories of them. I'm grateful for those moments, and hope that my little ones will say the same of me one day.
Rapunzel~
