OK then, I guess it does work!!!

 

Susie, you write well, and your descriptions are exactly as I remember them as well.  Grandma's curlers, Grandpa's crosswords in the front room.  All of that is spot-on.

 

It's funny, I remember as a small kid, being afraid of Grandpa!!  Not like terrified, but nervous and intimidated.  He never gave me reason to be, but he was so quiet, and quiet is intimidating to a kid.  He talked to me, but his smiles seemed to be few and far between, which is also intimidating to a small child.  Of course he made the pancakes, and I loved visiting, but still, if I was in a room alone with grandpa, I was immensely uneasy.

 

I mention that so I can mention the Grandpa I came to know.  Later in life, he mellowed alot, and became so much more approachable.  He became conversational, and open.  To me, it seemed he smiled more and he wasn't such an enigma.  I began to understand him and then appreciate, then respect, and then held him in the absolute highest esteem.  To where I was proude of my middle namesake, "Paul."  I was proud of where that name had come from.  I wrote him a letter several years ago, so he knew all of this.  I'm glad now that I did.  I wanted him to know that I wanted to grow up like him and my Dad, and to age and mature like he did.  I loved him immensely.  I knew he loved me in the way that grandparents love their grandkids, but I didn't know he felt so much the same way about me as I did him.  Turns out, he kept that letter till the day he died.  I'm honored by that.  I'm honored to have his name, and if someday I'm ever somehow blessed with a son of my own, he will have that name too.

 

As for Betty, (In recent years, I never called her Grandma anymore. She started signing her emails as "Gran," but I never called her that, and she always respdonded to "Betty.") what a little angel!  She'd let me raid the pantry for Sprites, and allow me to decimate those tins of cookies she made every Christmas.  And the cherry pies.  We always joked that she didn't make them for dad, but for me.  I never liked cherry pie, except hers.  I still don't.  My most favorite thing was to make her laugh, and it was so damn easy!  She laughed at everything.  I didn't care why, I just cared that she was laughing, and that meant she was happy, and I was the one making her feel that way.  I know she had some troubles at the end, but I could still make her laugh on the phone.  I'd call them sometimes for no other reason than to make her laugh.  (And to field Grandpa's latest engineering question about my job, because he always had a new one to ask me.)  She never liked me being so big, but I liked being big around her.  I liked being gentle with her.  When I hugged her or just walked by her in the kitchen.  I knew I'd knock her over if I walked by too fast and bumped her.  I was always so, so careful around her.  And the best was when she let me carry her!  They visited out here with my Mom and Dad a couple of summers ago.  We went on a hike.  On the way back I knew she was tired, and we had a ways to go.  I jokingly asked if she wanted me to carry her, fully expecting her to laugh and reject.  But she said, "OK, get over here."  I was floored!!  But I held up my end, and carried her all the way back to the truck.  She was still looking around and listening to birds.  She enjoyed it!  That made me feel really big around her, and I liked that.

 

Two great people.  I miss them.  But I'm so happy for them as well.  They lived their entire lives for where they're at now.   Whatever plane of existence and whatever conciousness they enjoy that we can't hope to understand, it's what they prepared for for 80 years.  And therein lies the blessing, and the good that comes.   All of this has fortified and bolstered my faith in ways nothing else could.  God was so present in all of this, and we've talked about this already, but it still rings true.  I'm so thankful for  them starting me on my faith (by starting Dad on his).  This has had a profound effect on me...and other than missing them to no end, it's all been a positive effect!  Seeing how they lived, how they prepared, and even how they died has made me proud, honored, and even more at peace with my mortality and the frailty of life.

 

Look at the Catholic family they've established.  This was their whole mission in life.  Mission accomplished.  What more could be expected of two tremendous people of God?  We honor them by exercising that faith and embracing their legacy.

 

Jeff