Gramps was a stud. I was twelve when he passed away, but I have many vivid memories of the person that he was. He was my great-grandpa, and my dad’s grandpa. He lived in Downey in a pink house (probably because Mamo liked it and he didn’t care about color). He was loving in a very manly way. He wore thick glasses that somehow fit his rugged personality. When I think of Gramps, there are few memories that always come to mind.
Gramps had an amazing garden. His backyard was a sea of potatoes and strawberries. Every year he tilled and tended the ground. He would spend much of his time picking off strawberry stealing robins and starlings with his BB gun in his rickety wooden shed while sitting in a lawn chair. He later would pay his great grand kids to do it.
He had a very old red pickup truck. It had a very distinct and oddly pleasant smell to it along with a very recognizable creak when the doors opened and closed. It seemed to always have a layer of dust on both the interior and exterior, but still managed to appear and feel clean. The radio didn’t work but it wasn’t necessary when you were with Gramps.
He was an amazing cook. I loved hunting, partly because we would stay in his basement and he would cook for us every meal. His top two ingredients for breakfast were butter and Velveeta Cheese. His dinners consisted of roast, corn, and potatoes. His pees and potatoes were my all time favorite meal. The man could make SPAM taste like prime rib. He was an effortlessly talented and gifted cook and he shared that gift with everyone.
He was broad shouldered and strong. He had a crooked arm that was badly broken when he was a child that would have been amputated had his mother not prohibited the operation. Rumor has it that Gramps was an amazing pitcher in high school, partly because his crooked arm gave him the ability to throw a nasty slider.
The final memory that I have of Gramps is a sad one. Justin, Hal, and I were helping out at Grandma Ruth’s and Justin and I ran to Gramps’ to get something. We got there at the same time that the ambulance did. We hurried back to Grandma’s and got Hal and then went back to Gramps. Gramps had put his dish in the sink and suddenly and unexpectedly dropped. Hal helped with CPR and I sat in the living room trying to make sense of the situation. Like it was yesterday, I can remember Dad saying, “Come on Gramps, come on Gramps!” He never came back. It was a shock to everyone. I remember on the drive home I looked in the rear view mirror and a ray of light, on an otherwise cloudy day, was shining on a favorite hunting spot of ours. It may have been a coincidence, but it still made me feel a little bit better.
We still talk about that day sometimes. I am convinced that that was probably the best way for Gramps to go. It happened too early for everyone that loved him, but he never was anyone’s burden, which would have broken his heart.
I will remember Gramps sitting in his recliner watching a Cubs game with a Coke and a bowl of Cheetos sitting next to him.
