We were destined to travel in October. First Logan and I traveled to Long Island for
Heather and Iris' Wedding and then on October 14, my grandfather passed away and we found our way headed East again, although for a much more somber occasion.
One thing I really have to say at this point is that RJ was actually helpful! I think this is the first time we've traveled where he managed to carry his own stuff in a backpack AND wanted to help pull the luggage. So that aspect of traveling is getting easier.
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| How we found them sleeping in the morning. |
Traveling at the last minute is always a little crazy, but we really weren't counting on delays out of the gate at SFO and missing our connection in Charlotte as a result which of course necessitated an overnight in a hotel, followed by a really early flight out in the morning (at least the airline paid for the hotel). So, the children were eating their pizza dinner at midnight (felt like 9pm to them, which is still late, but...) and finally settled down by 2, and we had to be up at 6. Oh, and did I mention that the flight there was super turbulent and that Logan managed to vomit, all over me, twice? Yeah. But once we were in the hotel room, he was just fine to run around and play and devour pizza.
We arrived in Buffalo with just enough time to relax for a few minutes and then shower and get ready for the first viewing. I have to say that I think Grandpa would've liked that there was a larger celebration of his life, looking at old pictures of him and sharing old stories, rather than everyone bawling their eyes out. Sure, we're all going to miss him, but he had a full life and touched so many people in a positive way and those are happy memories that we'll all have.
Speaking of which...I wrote and delivered the eulogy at his funeral.
Today I am wearing a ring that I haven’t worn in quite a while - I’m surprised it still fits. It might not be as sparkly as my engagement ring, but it does carry with it a certain amount of symbolism. See, once upon a time, I got dragged to a lot of craft shows when my grandparents were selling their wood crafts AND jewelry. The friendship knot rings were the most common ones, and I have a few of those still too, but this ring that I’m wearing today was a result of a pre-teen version of me wanting something COOLER than a friendship knot. So, Grandpa sat there (I believe this took place sitting on one of those log benches up at the trailer at Parkwood) and twisted the gold into what I see now as a crazy mess. But THEN. Well, he had just created the most AWESOME piece of custom jewelry EVER. He handed it to me with a twinkle in his eye and a smirk, and said (a bit sarcastically), “How’s that?”. Well THAT, Grandpa, was pretty cool, and THAT is exactly how I am choosing to remember you - as the sweet caring man, who was a little rough around the edges...the man who kept laughing when Grandma & him kept confusing the space bar with the return key at middle school Grandparents’ Day, or who came to my third grade class to talk about rocks and minerals during his rock hound phase in the 80s.
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It's ridiculous that I don't have a picture of Grandpa
doing this, even though I KNOW my father does! So a
picture of me and Lance the last time I was at Parkwood will
have to suffice |
Or, as I’m sure everyone will agree with, the man who was patient in teaching two generations of us how to fish, all the while rolling his eyes because I was a total girl and wouldn’t put the worm on the hook myself until I was an adult. He wasn’t even mad when I was an overzealous caster and nearly hooked him a dozen times...before settling into my usual routine of fishing for 15 minutes and then curling up on the boat with a book while my Dad and him sat and fished.
And of course, he would dutifully put his life jacket on as he walked back to camp so that Grandma would think he actually wore it in the boat. He would disappear for hours to hunt for the frogs that he used to catch the fish....all so that on Christmas Eve, we would all happily devour Canadian Bass from Paudash Lake in our Wigilia meal which I think everyone can agree is irreplaceable.
I know I’m supposed to stand up here and reminisce about the poignant, caring, and loving moments, and of course, make you all cry, but I don’t think Grandpa would enjoy that very much, so let’s all become “celebrate life” kinds of mourners today. After all, it was the gruffer, sometimes sillier side, that endeared him to all of us. I think my cousin summed it up the best when she posted “we’re gonna miss your crazy Polish ass” on facebook this Sunday. That crazy Polish man she speaks of left us with such fine memories as once blessing the Christmas tree with vinegar because grandma handed him the wrong bottle...but mostly ignored the smell until my dad kept sniffing the air around him obnoxiously, and then, his reaction was a curt, "shut up".
Growing up hearing stories of Grandpa dealing with the trials and tribulations of parenting has always proven amusing. Whether it was chasing my aunt and uncles around the house with friction ray guns in the dark while Grandma lay in bed with the flu or playing what might have been either Ravels Bolero or Crazy Jungle Music like Norwegian Wood while spitting watermelon seeds in the kitchen, or nearly knocking himself out while slipping and sliding all over the homemade hockey rink in the fields, painstakingly running the hose back and forth over the ice to make the rink as smooth as glass, or teasing David (who got the boat stuck between two trees in the narrows) by saying, “boat’s never been the same since David drove it”, it was clear that Grandpa loved and enjoyed his family.
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| Note the camera in his hand... |
In fact, if this was a wedding or a graduation instead of funeral, we’d probably be hearing that familiar hum of his camera rewinding the film after he took the last picture on that roll.
When Uncle Jim crashed his car, and left a note that only a kid in trouble can, saying, “Wake me up when you get up, we have a problem”. I can practically hear Grandpa wake him up gruffly saying, “What’s our problem?” And the fuming that escalated as they drove to and then saw the totalled car is completely understandable. But the touching part of the story was how after hearing other people circling the car and spouting speculations like, “..they must’ve died”, he was quiet, then said, “I’m glad you’re okay”, and never said another word about it. But Uncle Jim also didn’t get to drive another family car for a while either. He sometimes opted for the quiet punishment for his kids...seeing Uncle John’s new tattoo at age 16 and pressing his thumb into it as it bled, but he also found the humor in his kids like when they stuffed reader’s digests down their pant before getting whacked with the belt, and while he still made them take down their pants to get their punishment, he chuckled his way back down the stairs...clearly recognizing their ingenuity. And you know you’re in a unique household, when you’re woken up by your father exasperatingly saying, “How much money you got? I gotta bail your brother outta jail.”
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| Just after RJ dropped Jesus. |
The legacy that he leaves, regardless of how far flung we may become is the deep love and pride for this family and its traditions that he instilled. My favorite holiday is Christmas. And a great part of my love for that holiday isn’t because of the presents, or even the meaning behind the holiday - it’s because of the reverence for following our Polish traditions and heritage and including all of us in them...in real life and as increasingly smaller snowballs on the family room picture window...a tradition Nicole has carried on. Even when it might have been ill advised to let my 18 month old RJ carry in ceramic baby Jesus amidst the chaos that the entire family squeezing into the family room creates. Sure enough, he kinda got confused and dropped him, but Grandpa didn’t say a word while my heart pounded until the danger of shattering an irreplaceable family heirloom was over. Many of us can't wait to turn the Christmas lights on as soon as the tree is up...but keeping the tradition of lighting it for the first time as it gets blessed ( a task much easier once it got hooked to a power strip) is part of the magic that grandpa brought to the holiday. And as the family grew, Grandpa relished in the new traditions that popped up too...teasing and laughing as Amanda, Sarah, and Candice performed their annual fashion show, parading around in whatever new outfits they got for Christmas gifts and swapping Christmas dresses. And some of the legacies are simpler, like how he laughed when after 30 some years, my dad finally figured out why grandpas pancakes,using the same recipe, were always better.
We might be sad that our grandfather, father, husband, friend has left us, but he leaves us with these rich memories and traditions that we can pass on for generations to come.
Bob Dylan once wrote, “how many years can some people exist, Before they're allowed to be free?” The last couple of years have been rough on this family, knowing full well that “existing” is what this man did. But now, he’s free again, drinking his evening martini with those giant green olives. And while the answer to WHY he had to merely exist for a while, might be “blowing in the wind”, Grandpa himself will always be floating...in a boat. On Paudash lake.
Amazingly, RJ and Logan behaved quite well during the viewings and the funeral, and in the crazy whirlwind of visiting with relatives. And while our traveling was not under the best of circumstances, it was nice to see the kids get to visit with family, even if that was mostly climbing all over David for a while.
In fact, RJ did so well, that we decided to reward him with some new legos when he got home.
