In honor of losing my last grandparent this year, I thought Thanksgiving would be a nice time to reflect on the huge blessing that all of my grandparents have been to me.
I'm not going to lie. When it comes to grandparents, I hit the proverbial jackpot. Neither set of grandparents had much in the way of money or anything like that, but what they did have were the biggest hearts on planet earth! And time. I think that's what I treasure most about my childhood with them was the time we spent together. They were all so much fun to be with!
My Grandma T was my dad's mom. She was clever and witty and could be very very funny. She was also the person who started my love of all things crafty. When I would spend time at her house in Vermont she always had some sort of craft project for me to do. Or she would put out random supplies and let me create whatever came out of my little girl brain. She used to let me help her cook. And one of my favorite things (my husband will laugh at this) was washing dishes after dinner was over. I never liked doing dishes at home, but something about Gam's house made it fun. (Yes, we called her "Gam." When my brother and I asked her one time what she would prefer to be called by us, she told us, "You can call me whatever you want to call me... Just not Granny. That just makes me sound too OLD!")
My Grandma M was my mom's mom. She was the huggiest person I ever knew - until my son was born. She was little and round and soft, and hugging her was just the best. Even when I grew taller than her and had to lean over to do so. Somehow that just made it sweeter. Grandma was just a fun person to be around. She had a laugh like no other. Really it was a giggle that was completely contagious. And if she had a glass of wine (truthfully it was more like a half a glass) she would turn red in the face and giggle at any and every little thing. From her I inherited my love of hot black tea... and hugs.
My Pop was my dad's dad. Growing up I thought of my Pop as someone who could literally do anything. He could fix anything, make anything, grow anything, open every jar that I couldn't (which was a big deal when I was little!) Pop was sort of a jack of all trades. In his career he was an electrician on the Long Island Railroad. But in his life he was an amazing woodworker, mechanic, gardener, and was also a pretty good cook (when he did cook). I was able to do things when I was with Pop that I never was able to do elsewhere. It's like he knew that I was capable even if I was young. I used to help him garden, and mow the grass on a riding lawnmower. The one and only time I ever swung an ax to split firewood was with my Pop. From him I developed a love of working with my hands and the love of the smell of sawdust and gasoline.
My Dziadek (Polish for grandfather) was my mom's dad, and the Last of my Mohicans. He was only month shy of his 94th birthday when he passed away this past summer. My Dziadek had a wicked sense of humor. He made me laugh so often that just thinking of him makes me smile. And he could tell great stories. About 8 or 9 years ago I developed an interest in genealogy. Unfortunately all of my other grandparents had already passed, but I took advantage of Dziadek's memory and sent him a bunch of pages of questions about his family and his childhood and all kinds of stuff. Not only did he reply to my questions, he hand wrote 85 pages of stories about his life and sent them to me in a big envelope. I took that document and transcribed it into a book and gave copies to mom, my brother, and my aunts and uncle. The older I get the more I appreciate what his impact on me has been. My love of family stories, my love of a good joke, how to kill someone with a newspaper (that's a story for a different day... LOL) and how to share your life and home with generosity.
"Every good and perfect gift is from above..." Thank you, God, for your gift of grandparents.
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