Storm of Thoughts

In Memory

My grandfather was always smiling. I think that’s how I’ll remember him.Even in his later years, as his health was failing, he never complained. Just smiled and thanked you for visiting. He’d kiss my mom and me on the hand, make jokes with my dad, and light up whenever my dad suggested they call my Grandma. (Each time they called, he’d grin from ear to ear as he said, “Hiya, Doll.”) He seemed to eat less and less as the months passed by, although my dad (the self-proclaimed world’s worse nurse) would still surprise him with contraband fast food, brownies, or, on a rare occasion, even a few sips of beer. He never knew the day; couldn’t remember if he’d eaten lunch. But he’d nod and recount a few words as my dad asked him about the war or fishing trips, pointing to pictures he’d placed all over the wall.

My Grandpa was popular in his nursing home, not just because of his kind personality, content demeanor, or even the appreciation he showed for everyone who stopped by. That too, maybe. But he was popular because of his large, flat-screen TV, the one that won him a girlfriend next door (much to my grandmother’s chagrin) and kept him entertained day in and day out, though inside a place like that they can all seem the same. “There’s Barney,” he’d laugh, as he watched the Andy Griffith Show. He also loved MASH and Bonanza. But, mostly, he’d watch John Wayne movies. My mom brought over the entire VHS collection from home (we are a family of John Wayne fans), then continued buying more for his birthday and Christmas. Eventually his collection seemed to fill the room. My dad would pick one out each night before he left and let my Grandpa spend his evenings watching his favorite classics. On Christmas, my parents were amazed to discover a John Wayne marathon on TV. “Christmas with the Duke.” 24 hours of John Wayne. All of my Grandpa’s favorites playing every time he looked at the TV. This was just too much of a coincidence – my dad was sure divine intervention must have arranged it. My Grandpa had a great Christmas and then saw a new year approach (what would have been his 93rd), before closing his eyes and moving on the morning of January 3rd. (Which, strangely enough, is one year to the day of my maternal grandmother’s death.)

And so, we’re off to yet another funeral. It seems our family has had a lot, especially in recent years. As my dad likes to say, funerals are more about the living than the dead – remembering, but also celebrating life. And so we’ll keep that in mind as we get ready for my grandfather’s funeral this week. We know he’ll be looking down on us – although probably only during the commercials of John Wayne movies – which, in Heaven, I’m sure, are on 24 hours a day, every day.

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