Saying Goodbye

It has been one long month. Today is August 16, which means it's been a month and a day since Grandpa died, and in many ways it feels like so much longer. This whole month I've known I needed to write more about all of this, but I was never in the right mood. But it's early Saturday morning, the house is quiet, and I just had a dream about him, so it's all fresh in my heart and mind.

This was not the summer vacation I had planned. If life hadn't gotten in the way, Tauna and I would be wrapping up our road trip right now. We were going to go to Chicago, Cleveland and Columbus over this past week. The real version of the trip was a lot more somber, and had a different cast of characters. Instead of an Indians baseball game, the main event was a funeral. Instead of Tauna, my travel companions were my parents, sisters, and Kevin.

And so last month we said goodbye to my grandpa. It was unexpected, in that he hadn't been sick- just old. In a way I'm sure it was a blessing. He never had to be in a hospital or in a home, he didn't have to suffer. But the surprise of it leaves me with a sadness over the unspoken goodbye. I hadn't seen him since Christmas of 2006. I had to miss my family's trip earlier this summer because of work commitments, so Tauna and I planned a trip of our own instead. I had been corresponding with Grandpa about our plans. This is one of the last emails he sent me:

~dear Nicole~
Thanks for the warning ,since I am in the loop I have some questions
What is your mode of transportation ( air ,land or broom) ?
Who is coming with you ?
Are You going anywhere else ?
I am glad to hear from you ,looking forward to seeing you if your hungry I'll buy you a meal
GrandPa

My Grandpa was a funny guy. One of the items that was found in his house was a note pad. On the top page, written in Grandpa's very distinctive block-letter handwriting, was written "Lift in case of fire". If you lifted the page, on the second page it said, "Not now, stupid. I said in case of fire." That's just so random but so very Grandpa.

Among the other items that was found in his house was his yearbook from his senior year in high school. Under his name, it said his nickname was Earthquake, but no one knows why. It makes me sad that we'll never find out. This is his senior picture:

He looks like he's 12, not 18. My uncle was saying that the year after he graduated he always said it was so hard because all of his friends went off to war but he was too little to go then. This picture explains a lot in my family. My sister Nancy and my cousin Hillary (and me, to a certain extent) both look a lot younger than they really are. Here they are at Hillary's graduation party earlier this summer. Nancy (left) is 19 and Hillary is 18:

Well, I suppose the picture doesn't quite capture their shortness, but you get the idea!

Cleveland is always an interesting place to me. It's kind of like my alternate universe. When I'm there I can't help but speculate a little bit about what my life might be like had my parents chosen to live there instead of in Iowa. For the most part, I'm so glad they made the decision that they did. Amana was a great place to grow up, and I can't imagine not knowing all the people that I know and love here and now. But for my dad's sake, sometimes it makes me sad. He's the only one of his siblings that doesn't live in Ohio, and I know that must be hard. My aunt was telling me how incredibly sad my grandma was when my dad moved to Iowa before his wedding. I hadn't really thought about that before, but it broke my heart to hear it.

Aunt Linda also told a lot of other stories, funny stories, about growing up with three older brothers. Apparently my dad, the middle child, was the peace-keeper between Uncle Dale and Uncle Gary. That doesn't surprise me. He was also so gosh-darn helpful that it put his siblings to shame. Also not surprising. One of his fondest childhood memories is how, as an eighth grader, he would walk Linda to Kindergarten every morning. I just think that's so sweet how much he loves to tell us that. Here is another picture we found. My dad is on the left, Gary's in the middle, and Dale's on the right. My dad is just too cute!

When Dad and Gary had some friends over in high school or college (which they weren't supposed to do that night for some reason), and the food they had stewing on the stove exploded all over the kitchen, my dad took the rap because he knew he wouldn't get in as much trouble as Gary would. And he didn't. A lot of these stories have to do with food, now that I think about it. Also not surprising. The boys had a fight with jelly one time, with jelly splashing all over the cabinets and everything, and Grandma tried to yell at them to get them to stop but ended up just breaking down laughing. And apparently Dad and Dale regularly had crepe-eating contests. Grandma couldn't make them fast enough to keep up with them. They were recounting this story to Gary at one point during the trip. "No, I didn't like the crepes as much as they did..." he also went on to say that he has no childhood memories because life was great for his first six years (as the baby in the family) until this girl came into his life and ruined everything.

Apparently the birth of Linda did change everything for those boys. They moved up to the bedroom in the attic so Linda could have her own room on the ground floor. I like the story of how Dale got so fed up with Dad and Gary that he moved into the closet for a week. He set up a lawn chair and would sit in there and read his book.

I always love hearing stories about my dad and his family growing up. Now I'm just sad that I never asked Grandpa for more of them. I'm going to miss the guy. On one of the tables at the funeral home, next to some photos and that funny notepad, was one of the hats he used to wear. I always remember him in those hats. My cousin Teddy said it the best, "That hat carries more of his essence than anything else. I can look at him in that casket and be okay, but then I see that hat and that's what makes me choke up."

Despite the circumstances, it was good to see my cousins. College must've changed Jacob, because he talks more now. Abby was in the process of making the decision to move to Louisville, Kentucky, to start her first teaching job. Zach flew in from DC, Teddy came in from Ithaca, and of course we came in from Iowa/Nebraska. Soon Hillary will be moving to Pittsburgh to start college. I think Grandpa enjoyed keeping up with new parts of the country. He would always pay attention to weather and news in cities where his grandchildren are. In fact, I think the last time I talked to him was when he called me back in June because he saw that there were tornadoes in Omaha and flooding in Cedar Rapids and he wanted to know how I was.

Wendy is the only friend of mine who ever met Grandpa. She and I took a road trip to Ohio over fall break of our senior year at Mount Mercy, five years ago now. As soon as we got to Grandpa's house, practically even before we said hello, he took us to his computer and told us he was going to look us both up on Google. And that he did. He was so funny. Wendy said it best when I saw her at Staci Mae's shower the week after the funeral. "Just think about how much better Google is in Heaven than it is here!" I just had to laugh.