My Grandpa

Tuesday will be my Grandpa's memorial service.  He passed away in his sleep on January 6th at 89 years old.  This past weekend I spent with my Grandma, my Mom, my aunts, uncles and cousins, going through pictures, and remembering Grandpa.  I knew that this day would come, that my Grandpa would move on to greener pastures.  He was a cowboy...he liked greener pastures. I started writing my memories about Grandpa the night that he passed away.  My Grandma asked my to say something at the service, thank goodness I was prepared.    I hope that I can make it through and share my love for my Grandpa with our family and friends.  


Here is my story...
As the youngest granddaughter…I was his favorite.  Actually we were all his favorites.  Even if it took a couple tries for Grandpa to get our names right, he would get it.   After all there are too many of us to remember.  I've been looking through a lot of pictures of Grandpa and he is smiling in every single one.  Surrounded by his children, his grand children and his great grandchildren.   Surrounded by love.

Grandparents with almost all the great grandkids

I have great memories of my Grandpa.  He loved a garage sale.  When we were all little we used to go camping at Beverly Beach during the summer.  If there was a garage sale between Newberg and Newport, we would stop to find the next big bargain. 

• Riding in the top of the truck camper while Grandpa was driving…a little crazy.  I can still see drivers faces coming at us with look of terror as we went around corners.  
• Listening to “Counting Flowers on the Wall” on the 8 track in the camper while playing cards.  Every time I hear that song I think of arguing with my cousin Maggie over whose rules of rummy are correct.
• Old Fashioned Days parade every summer, with the Yamhill Sheriff Posse riding their horses with the appropriate flags, Grandpa sitting proud on his horse in his yellow shirt.

Grandpa and I at Old Fashion Days

• Getting to go to the posse meetings in Mac, running around the grandstands, playing in the dirt, and getting to ride the horses after the meetings.  Julie, Roco,  Andrea,  Coco, Brandy, Frosty were a few of his horses and mules.   A cowboy hat and belt buckle were permanent fixtures on Grandpa. 

Funny Face JJ and Grandpa

Several of us grandkids had the pleasure of picking filberts and walnuts and bucking hay.  Every once in a while a filbert would go flying through the air, perhaps hitting a sibling.  Grandpa would yell at us to get back to work.   My job for bucking hay was rolling the bales in rows and spreading salt on the bales when they were being put in the barn.   Grandma was the driver of the big red truck. “Hit it Marge,” Grandpa would yell when it was time for the truck to move.  The truck would usually die and Grandpa would yell again, sometimes going to help Grandma get it started.

Boys love John Deere...especially the gator

Barns.  Grandpa has a lot of barns, and they are filled with all his treasures from the garage sales.  When I wanted a camp stove, dad said ask Grandpa.  I did, he had several to choose from.  And the one we picked worked.  The boys have camping cots from one of Grandpa’s bargain hunts.

I saw my first calf being born with Grandpa.   I am pretty sure it was my last. 

The last several years, Grandpa and I had taken to talking about food and gardening.  He loved to order things out of crazy magazines that were delivered.  I think mom tried to recycle them before they made it to Grandpa’s hands.  Dutch oven recipes and ice cream maker recipes and mixes were some of his favorites.  Even though I’m pretty sure those items weren’t on his diet.

Adrian and I with our kids and Grandpa and Grandma

My boy’s memories of their great Grandpa are of riding in the gator to get the mail or paper.  Eating snacks with great Grandpa (great Grandma makes the best snacks).  The best summer birthday party ever when all the cousins come together to fish and go down the zip line. Getting to ride his stubborn mule and random horse shoes that he would give them.  My memories are those of Grandpa holding each baby boy and snoozing in the recliner with them.

Grandma and Grandpa and the0ir kids

In the words of the great John Wayne “Courage is being scared to death - but saddling up anyway." 

My Grandpa was a proud and loving man.  He may have been scared when he it took him longer to remember which granddaughter he was talking too, or frustrated that Grandma wouldn’t make him scrambled eggs soaked in bacon fat.  But he didn't show it.  He saddled up every day and was the best Grandpa and great Grandpa that he could be.

Thank you Grandpa.  I love you and you will be missed!


Added notes...
On the way home from our day, JJ (from the back seat) tells us that he's already forgetting what Grandpa's voice sounded like.  


My cousin Tacie spoke today also.  She had letters form Mark and Wayne.  Both were amazing.  Friends of Grandpa's spoke too.  One brought up the pancake breakfasts at the posse. I had forgot about those.:)