Less than a year after writing about the passing of my grandmother, I find myself in the difficult position of also writing about the passing of my grandfather.
While a sad occasion, I also find myself breathing a little bit easier. You see when people talk about my grandparents…it’s always “Bonnie and Gus.” It was almost like one name instead of two people. They were truly two hearts beating as one and it’s been hard to watch my grandfather exist without his soul mate.
Writing my thoughts about grandpa are also much more of a struggle than with grandma. You see…grandma was a bright star where grandpa was happy to be a planet caught in her orbit. He was happy listening to others; joining in at times, but rarely making the story about himself. If I had to summarize who he was in one word it would be:
Selfless.
Others always came first to my grandfather. He wasn’t big on retelling old stories. In fact, I gave him and my grandmother a book to fill out about their life stories. Grandma? Handed hers in like a proud student. Grandpa? Never touched his. That's just who he was.
On the occasion he did share a story? My grandmother spent the entire time correcting him (I say this with all love and humor. It’s become a running joke in the family).
Instead of sharing my grandfather’s life story…I wanted to share a few meaningful stories to me.
My grandfather served in the Army Airforce during WWII. He rarely talked about his time as a soldier. I don’t believe he viewed his service as anything ‘special.’ I believe he felt he was simply ‘doing his job/doing his part.’ He knew the horrors of war and left that behind when he came home.
I don't think this reflected any shame in serving. I think, rather, like many soldiers whom saw the horrors of war, he hoped that by his fighting in a war he wanted to prevent others from experiencing the horror of war.
I’ve been blessed to be part of “four-generations” of Arbuckle-men not once…but twice. My own great-grandfather and myself being the book-ends and then again with my son and my grandfather serving as book-ends. It’s a rare feat to be part of it once…rarer still, twice.
My grandfather retired as a butcher and bought a small place at Pomme de Terre lake. My sister and I would often go down with my grandparents for “camp.” Grandpa took particular glee at trying to fling us off the ‘tube.
He enjoyed fishing and had a wizard like skill. We often “kept score” and inevitably…in those rare moments that I was winning…he’d point over to some weeds and say “this is where I catch up.” And every damn time…he’d reel in a fish. Like magic.
Speaking of 'magic' he and grandma happened upon this stuffed bunny. They bought it for us and grandpa would 'sneak' foiled chocolate eggs under the bunny and claim that the 'magic bunny' laid them. He took enormous amounts of joy watching our faces light up with that particular brand of 'magic.' It's a tradition we continued with my son...and, perhaps, he too will continue it with his family.
Grandpa discovered golf later in life. In fact, my dad, grandpa and I took in a round when grandpa was a young 89. I will tell you, however, riding along with him in the golf cart may have aged me a few years!
Grandpa was also a pool shark. Literally. When he and grandma were first starting out…he’d go hustle people out of money so he’d have a little extra spending cash. True story. And, into his 90s, he could still smoke me. He’d complain the whole time that he couldn’t shoot anymore…but then he’d clean your clock. The hustle never stopped…
Tom Brokaw wrote a book “The Greatest Generation” depicting my grandparents generation. I read sections of it in college and through those sections…all I could ever picture was my grandpa. An ordinary person, faced with extraordinary challenges who accomplished extraordinary things.
After grandma passed, grandpa did decline fairly quickly. However, in those first few months after her passing, I’ve never heard him talk more in my entire life. I think he enjoyed being “right” for a few moments.
Don’t misunderstand me, there is obvious sadness in grandpa’s passing, but I also find myself chuckling when I think about how he and Grandma are together again…sharing stories…and grandma correcting him all the while.
I find great comfort in knowing it’s “Bonnie and Gus” again.
But this time, it’s forever.
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