My grandfather is a treasure trove of witty comments, stories of foolish road trips, and delightful Norweigian jokes. Spending time with him and grandma, the straight man to his comic, is a joy.
Grandpa is getting old. Even grandma will be ninety this year. They are slowing down. They both have walkers, grandma has broken numerous bones in a variety of falls, grandpa's eyesight is going. They shouldn't drive or carry things or climb stairs any more. And for the most part, they don't. But that is a new development.
Just a couple of years ago (grandpa was already in his nineties), my parents got a call from this glorious pair: they had two twin beds they hoped to get out of the house. Could we help? Certainly!
Mom packed my three strapping brothers along to carry the furniture up the world's most frighteningly steep staircase out of grandpa & grandma's basement. ...only to find both beds (box springs, frames, mattresses, and several new sets of sheets) waiting to merely be loaded into a vehicle and moved. Grandpa had convince grandma to join in, and the two of them in their white haired, walkered glory had schlepped both bed sets up a precarious flight and through narrow hallways to the garage.
They used to pull all manner of stunts. I've heard the most heart-gladdenning stories from grandpa. And I wish I could remember half of his jokes!
Last February, my mom's father died. My dad's spunky father is the last grandfather in my life. And I am finally realizing, as he and grandma are as well, that he is getting old. He is becoming forgetful. Tonight, he asked me if I have one more year of school yet... And apologized when grandma reminded him that I graduated two years ago.
He is the reason my sense of humor is the way it is. I blame that side of the family for just how Norwiegian I look. My brother can do the most fabulous impressions of grandpa when he tells his stories. And I will miss him and grandma, my beloved comedy team and hug-givers, as soon as I leave to head home (to my parents' home) on Sunday night. They are smile-shapers and life givers, inspirations and cookie bakers, and they remind me of exactly how much love I hope always to leave in my wake.
Grandpa, I want to be just like you when I grow up! (That's why I play the fiddle, don'tcha know!)
Love you, dear hearts!
Marit
"See, what I do for a living is I sit down. I went to school for it, and now I can do it even with my eyes closed. But then, see, I fall over." -Grandpa
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