On grandfathers

I've had some synchronicity around grandfathers this morning (is it grandparents' day or something?), causing me to reflect on my own grandfathers, who I never knew.  One died when I was an infant, the other when I was around five.  As I grew up, not very much was said about either of them, but I've gathered up bits and pieces. 

My maternal grandfather, the one who died when I was a baby, has always intrigued me and I wish that I had gotten to know him.  My mom's family was Catholic, and he was apparently quite devout.  He attended Mass regularly, but he seems somewhat odd, in that he apparently used to recite the mass along with the priest.  In Latin.  (As they did back then.)  Perhaps this is where I got my love of classical languages.

He never drove a car, although his wife did.  He used to walk to the library every Thursday, and instilled in my mother a love of reading.  She loved taking those trips to the library with him.

He used to eat apples, including the core.

What must it have been like for my mother to lose him only 6 months after giving birth to her first child?  I wish I could ask her, but she is gone also.

My dad almost never talks about his father.  What I've gathered is that he was a drinker and a gambler, and not a very nice man.

Both of my grandfathers were welders.  My paternal grandfather worked on the World Trade towers.

This is everything I know about them.

Comments

[Teresa C]

Gosh, Alison. You've made me think about my grandfathers who both died when I was young-like 4 and 6. I think I might know less about them than you do about yours. My dad has passed as well, so he isn't around for information. I'll have to pump my mom on her dad. The one thing I remember about him was that he was very American Indian, and when he would give me a kiss he would rub his hard beard on my little girl cheek and laugh and laugh. Maybe he wasn't such a nice guy......

[Teresa C]

And actually-it wasn't so much a beard as two days growth all of the time. Just enough to burn.

[kate]

I knew one of my grandfathers really well and the other not so well. I think more about my paternal grandmother who I only recently found out was a knitter and ran her own business making ties. My mom keeps saying I remind her of her. My dad never says anything about it. She died when my dad was 16 and nobody talks about her. And not knowing her husband particularly well, I never heard about her from him. My maternal grandmother just says she was a wonderful lady. And I think about my great grandmother who I never knew. And the other day I was talking to my mom about my great grandmother who I did know. She lived until I was almost 13 and I saw her practically every week, but now, as a mother and adult I have a thousand questions I would want to ask her about how she did things and things that happened. My mom said that she had known her when she was a mother and an adult, but she suddenly has all these things she would want to ask too. I guess you don't appreciate people as much as you should when you have them around. It makes me think I should talk to my the grandma I still have more... I actually talk to her quite a bit, but maybe I should talk to her differently. And I keep meaning to contact my dad's only aunt... Thanks, Alison.

[kate]

ooh. wow. that was long. sorry.

[Dan]

Alison-

What about where they were from, where their parents had come from, etc.?

I was fortunate to know both my grandparents, my maternal a bit longer and better than my parternal.

[Beth S.]

My paternal grandfather died on New Year's Day, and I never mentioned it because I really didn't know what to feel. We weren't close. He once sent me a Dear Abby (or Ann?) column about ungrateful grandchildren, and that was the last time I ever heard from him. Nice, huh?

[Ellen]

Hey Alison - this was an interesting post! I knew one of my grandfathers, didn't know the other. Your story underlines that we should learn as much about eachother as we can, when we can....

[Knitting Bandit]

What a thought provoking post. I was close to my patrnal GP. I saw him at least one a week from the time I was an early teen. And even though he lived to a ripe
old age of 92, I still miss him and wish I had talked more with him about his life. What I want to share is what an incredible relationship my teenage boys have with my dad. My dad has always been there for them in a "casual" "fun" way. What I mean is he doesn't sit down and have serious talks with them, but he could if he needed to. Two years ago when my 37 year old husband and I found ourselves in the hospital because he was having a heart attack, it was my dad who talked to them and helped them through it. He's a young GP--58 to a 15, 14 and 13 year old. Chased them when they were little, jet ski's with them now, etc. For the second year, he's excited to take them on a long weekend trip-just GP and the boys. I don't know who's more excited! I guess the point of this long comment is not just how lucky my boys are and how wise my dad is, but also in remembering our relationships and regrets, it's a good time to help make a change in how our own children will someday be reflecting on their relationships with their grandparents. And us as parents!:)

[AlisonH]

I discovered, just a few years ago, a letter my grandmother had written, which is how I found out she not only was a knitter, but she'd headed the local Red Cross chapter of knitters knitting for the troops in WWII. Wow. I want my future grandkids to know me--so I wrote one book and am working on the next. Stories of myself, down on paper: because I know how much I treasure that one single letter, which is all the words I have of my father's parents.

I'm glad you're writing a blog!