Ode To My G'PA

I can remember most of my visits with my Gpa Meyer.  He had a rough exterior but a soft center that I didn’t open my eyes to see until later in life.  I was always scared of him when I was little.  He was an ex-marine, stood tall with his chest out and his shoulders back, had a gruff voice, and piercing blue eyes.  I resisted sitting next to him unless harshly prompted by my mother during the holidays and when we took road trips together, I sat as quietly and as still as possible in the back seat so as to avoid gaining his attention.  He never said much during our random family visits, just observed, asked a few questions, and snuck us kid’s candy or quarters as we were leaving in exchange for hugs. 

I have a picture posted on my refrigerator of one such visit.  It was Christmas time and my whole family plus all my Aunts, Uncles, and cousins are gathered at my Gpa Meyer’s house to celebrate.  These were crowded parties considering my mom is the oldest of nine siblings.  The party consisted of gift exchanging, cookie eating, and the placing of baby Jesus in the multitude of Nativity scenes scattered around the house.  In this picture, my mother, father, brother, sister, and I are all huddled in the corner by the piano.  Dad, mom and my sister, Rosemarie, are focused on the camera, smiling.  My brother, Will, and I are focused on where Gpa is in the room.

As Gpa aged, he maintained his stubborn pride, his piercing eyes, and his gruff voice, but gave up some of his height.  We saw a softer side of him as we sat together and watched Gma, his wife, slowly slip away from us.  He would laugh at her hallucinations in the nursing home and share with us that she thought we were giving her a party and it was making her upset because she didn’t want a party, asking if we would tell everyone to go home.  It was nice to see him laugh but sad to see her go. 

I warmed up to him the most when I was at a family Christmas party and he sought me out to introduce me to one of his friends.  I heard the pride in his voice when he told his friend I was in the military.  I took a moment to re-evaluate our relationship because when I announced I was joining the military in 2001, all I got was a grunt out of him.  I had assumed he disagreed with my decision just like my Gpa Staun, although Gpa Staun had been a little more vocal about it. 

His stubborn pride still intact, but his body aging quicker than he wanted, Gpa refused to use walkers, wheelchairs, or canes even after he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease and lost feeling in his legs.  When I saw him, he always tried his best to stand tall and look me in the eye with those piercing blue eyes.  He put on a big show about not wanting help from anyone, but would always take my arm or my hand and walk with me.  I often found him next to me at family functions asking how I was doing.  He still wasn’t the best conversation starter, but there was a comfort in just having him sit next to you.  His hearing wasn’t the best and I think this contributed to his lack of speech, the less he asked, the less he had to try to hear your response. 

My greatest surprise was when I wrote him a card to say “Happy Birthday.”  I off-handedly included in my note that if he was ever feeling up to traveling, that he was always welcome in my home.  My Aunts did not appreciate my offer because as soon as he read this, he demanded a map and wanted to see where I lived in Alabama.  He started planning the 9 hour trip and asking who was going to take him to Alabama.  He made such a fuss about coming down to see me that I took a leave of absence to see him instead.

As I sit here thinking of him and his family, I can’t help but compare myself to him.  We are both weakened by a relentless sweet tooth, have rough exteriors, are always cold, and are insanely stubborn with piercing blue eyes.  We both have thick blood; this was proven not only from his multiple blood clots, but by my own blood clot in March of 2011.  We are both awkward in social situations.  I can understand and appreciate his quiet observations because I am the same way.  When I don’t know what to say or how to act, I just sit back and observe, much like Gpa did during the holidays. 

I wasn’t around much due to military obligations and school, but I do remember the times I shared with my Gpa.  They were equally special no matter the occasion or lack thereof.  I love you Gpa and may you rest in peace.