One afternoon when I was 12 or 13, I set out to go fishing. I gathered my pole and a few worms and set out across the field for the pier on our pond. I cast my pole and used up my worms. I noticed Granpa Joe approaching and thought he must have come to check on the pondâ??s water level or if the grass was ready for hay baling. He had a habit of coming up to the house from his, about ¼ mile down the dirt road, every week or so to say hi and â??check on thingsâ? as I heard people say. He came up behind me on the pier and I sadly complained that the fish werenâ??t biting because Iâ??d run out of worms and hadnâ??t brought any lures. He kinda â??humphedâ? and said, â??Well, thatâ??s no problem.â? I followed him off the pier and into the tall late-summer grass. He thrust his arm into the tops of the grass, snatching at something so quickly I barely saw him move. He turned around and opened his palm to reveal a fat grass-hopper snared between his thumb and forefinger. â??Well, here you go,â? he said matter-of-factly. I glanced down with what must have been a look of â??Ew, ickyâ?¦get it away!â? I still had my pole in hand, with its naked hook dangling down in front of me. He picked up the hook with his other hand and deftly skewered what was now my bait. â??Oh now,â? he drawled half chuckling, â??itâ??s nothinâ?? but an oleâ?? grasshopper.â?This memory has stuck with me because it demonstrates his kindness and patience. He never got frustrated or yelled at me because I thought something was gross or couldnâ??t manage to do something heâ??d asked. He was matter-of-fact and unshakable, which Iâ??ve always admired because I tend to get rattled easily. He was also very practical and resourceful. Like so many of our elderly, he didnâ??t specialize and his work ethic was astounding! Certainly a model I strive to live up to, but am sure I will never reach. He worked hard and could work with anything: building houses, sunrooms, and gazebos, painting houses. It just seems like yesterday that he painted my daughterâ??s nursery, brushing the paint on between the wall and the ceiling with the steadiest of hands. He was far past needing tape to make straight lines and keep the paint off the baseboards. He chuckled heartily that day as me, and especially my husband, got paint all over us, particularly our shoes. I canâ??t believe that was 12 years ago. He also raised beef cattle, kept bees, and gardened on an enormous scale! We never wanted for fresh vegetables! And I have fond memories of picking corn and strawberries in the many rows he had grown to such great health. Oh! And the flowers and plants: the peonies and the gigantic Boston ferns, which still live in the sunroom he built.Granpa, last Christmas you worried that you hadnâ??t done enough for your children and grandchildren. You said you tried and tried, but it just wasnâ??t enough. For me, and speaking for my immediate family, I know that it was definitely more than enough! Your great practical wisdom and enormous strength of spirit will go forward with us all.You worked hard enough and now you may finally restâ?¦in peace and love.
