He’s always been a bit of an enigma to me. He seems to repel affection, shirking from it before it has a chance to soak in. It wasn’t until I was moving away from home for the very first time that I came to realize this about him. For the first twenty-two years of my life, only a fifteen minute drive separated me from my grandparents, but marrying a soldier meant a cross-country move. Everyone came to see us off as we pulled away from my parents’ house in a big U-Haul truck. I remember hugging him.
“I love you, Gramps.”
“Yep. You too,” came his gruff, uncomfortable reply.
I don’t remember ever having said the words to him before. Neither do I remember ever saying goodbye without giving him a hug. And him hugging right back.
I’ve never questioned whether he loved me. I guess it’s just the words he has a hard time with.
There was not a birthday spent without him and Grams coming for dinner. Cake. Presents. After dinner, he’d walk away from the table, leaving his empty plate behind. One of the women followed up, clearing his dishes. When his cup was empty, he’d alert Grams. I don’t think I ever saw him behind the sink; my memory places him at his workbench in the barn, on the seat of his tractor, behind the wheel of his patrol car, or in his recliner.
What I can’t recall is him pushing me on a swing. Or reading to me. Yet still, I never questioned his love for me. He just showed it differently: making up silly songs about me, teasing me, and–once I was old enough–asking about the ins and outs of my life.
He still does that. These days, he compliments my blog posts. Or my success with novel number one. Proud is not a word I’ve ever heard him utter, it’s more a feeling he loosely conveys.
A man of a generation I still don’t fully understand, his shell is hard to crack.
Gramps came along on our most recent vacation. Truth be told, I thought that three nights at Walt Disney World followed by an eleven night cruise would be too much for him. I thought he’d complain his way through the trip, behaving only because Grams insisted.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Never before had I seen a more engaging, youthful, present Gramps. He zigged and zagged right along with us at Epcot’s World Showcase. He took in the sights. He posed for pictures, smiling even. He laughed. He had fun.
Once on board the ship he logged hours on the exercise deck, walking laps to balance out calories. He perfected the art of texting, constantly updating us with his whereabouts and planned activities. Over dinner, he’d inquire about our excursions.
He sipped wine. He saved us seats at the nightly shows. He did his part during our team scavenger hunt. One night, he laughed so hard he coughed.
I’d never seen that side of him.
But I’m so glad that changed.
He hasn’t agreed to vacation with us again. I’m keeping my fingers crossed, though. The Gramps I met on the cruise is a man I hope to spend time with again.
I’ll never claim to fully understand him–just what it is that keeps him so…corked. But it is what it is. He is who he is.
And I love him. You hear that, Gramps? I love you.
Whether you like it or not.
enjoy every minute with him. I miss my “Papa: so much. Thank you for such a sweet tribute – we should all remember to say such honoring things to those we love, before they aren’t around to hear them anymore.
Darcie, you tell him, as often as you want, even if you call him in the middle of the day, you do it and tell him “I LOVE YOU”. Those were the last words my Father said to me the morning I left him and that afternoon, my Mom called to say he was going to the hospital, could I please get here quick. He never said a thing to anyone, I knew when he was being put in the ambulance that it was bad, I could tell by the rescue and fireman that it was bad. They all knew our family, I could tell. But I also can say 11 years later, the last thing my Dad ever said to me was “I Love You, Have a Good Day”. And you know what, if you say it enough to him, he will, he will learn to do the same to you. I just hope he is around for a long long time for you and your family. My Dad would some times call me at night just to say “GOOD NIGHT, GOD BLESS YOU, I LOVE YOU” and he did and does. I just know it.
Thank you for letting me blab on and on.
And thank you for your wonderful words that you share with us.
i love it. that was beautiful.
my gramps is so sick right now. but – despite being a salt of the earth farmer – he always loved babies. whenever one of his 6 daughters had a baby (and they had lots!) he would always be the one volunteering to hold the baby. i have so many memories of him sitting in his rocking chair coo-ing at the tiny little infant in his huge arms. he had a soft spot for sure!
This post was beautiful and made me think of my dad. He would do, and has done, anything and everything for me. It’s been amazing watching him be a grandpa to my kids, because it gives me a peek back into the past to see what a blessed childhood I had with him. We don’t often say “those words” to each other, but we know.
My Father was also of “that generation” and those words were not often said until the later years of his life. After I moved away from home and would call home, talking mainly to Mom… Daddy hated talking on the phone. But, you could hear him calling out questions from the other room. At the end of the conversation I would tell Mom I loved her and to tell Daddy I loved him too. To which he responded “uh huh”. So, we began a little running joke and I would tell Mom to tell Daddy “uh huh” . The memories make me smile to this day. May you have many more travel adventures to add to your memories. Your Gramps sounds like a wonderful man.
That’s wonderful! As you were describing him in the beginning, my Grandpa is JUST like that! It’s so interesting how they can act that way and yet we still don’t question their love for us!
I hope you have many more vacations with him!
AHHHH, life always has a little something new for us, and this is one of the best posts as this man is my Daddy and this is my daughter, two of my favorites. I am so thrilled you all had such a memorable times, life is all about the memories.
Tears.
I am so glad that you were able to have that vacation with him, and I hope it was only the first of many more to come!
You could be describing my grandfather…a man of few words or affection. But I will NEVER forget him sitting beside my grandmother’s hospital bed holding her hand every day, all day while she recovered from a stroke. And I will NEVER forget how lost he was when she died. Maybe a man of few words, but loved very deeply.
Beautiful. Your sincere love and admiration for him shine. What a wonderful experience to share.
Awh :)
You made me smile. And miss my Gramps. Both of them :)
Darcie, thanks for those memories and those comments.
I did have a good time on our vacation. I’m glad you were pleased at my reaction. You and Jeff made the experience enjoyable.
Did you notice in the picture you included that the man in the background was giving us the (fore)finger? He was probably mad that I had my arm around my beautiful granddaughter and he didn’t. Or maybe he just didn’t have any champagne.
I grew up in a time that boys/men didn’t cry and express their feelings verbally. I do find it hard to say “I love you” as it always seemed so “politically correct” and not something to be said lightly as it is so often done today. I don’t think it’s in the same category as “Have a good day” but is used in the same casual manner by most people. Instead of ending a pnone conversation by bidding someone goodbye it’s “I love you” or the shorter version “love you”.
Now, that I’ve alienated most of your readers (who were probably flower children in their younger day) I have to admit I LOVE YOU!
P.S. It’s still easier to write than to say.
Loved this, Darcie! Reminds me of my own father and my own grandpa. Is it older men? Maybe. They’re all just a bunch of teddy bears at heart.
Oh, I need a tissue! I am speechless. This was an amazing post.
I loved it- and I am sitting here crying because it is so like my dad. People thought he was gruff and unbending but never, NEVER in my life did I doubt his love for me and what a great daddy he was- there was nothing I couldn’t share with him and I still feel his presence with me each time I have a hard decision to make or I wonder about if I am doing the right thing. I miss him so muich and wish he could have met matt and Darcy and all the grandkids. I hope he never doubted how much he was loved by his children and grandkids and that some of the joy he now has in heaven is watching his daughter experience the joys of being grandparent and knowing I learned how to be a responsible adult member of society, a loving spouse, a good friend, and a good Christian from him (and Me-Maw, too). I love you Allison ( not said at all lightly). Thanks for sharing this with me.
Love love love this post. And that you have a wonderful grandfather in your life that loves you. I miss that! Thank you for posting this. <3
I love this, and that I am seeing it now, on this side of things for me. :)
Steph
Awwww, what a blessing to have grandparents so close growing up! I never had that. I am fortunate to get to visit my Grampa every year in Maine, and I love him dearly, but I’m not sure if I’ve ever told him that. I think I will, next time I see him. :-)
I’m sort of glad I’m behind on blog reading because I was able to see your Gramps’ response to this post. :)
Also – I totally “get” what you said about him being from a generation that you don’t fully understand. I feel the same way about my grandparents (and I’m sure they feel the same way about me).