After writing my first blog post the other night. I decided it was time for me to dig out my notes about Grandpa that I had read the day of his funeral. To be honest, this was hard for me. I haven't even looked at the words since the day i read them aloud. It still hurts too much.
I don't think you ever really get get over the loss of a loved one. Sure, the days go by and you don't think about it as much, and it does get easier. However, all it takes is a maybe a smell, a sound, or a song and that loved one is right back with you. Sometimes, the memory brings joy and sometimes sorrow. Like the time last Summer as I was picking peas out in the garden, enjoying the sunshine. When the next thing I know, tears are streaming down my face. All it took was the smell of the peas, and the movement of my hand as it snapped the pea pod off the vine, and instantly I was back in Grandpa's garden, spending the day with him, eating raw peas as I follow along behind him. Not wanting to be anywhere else in the world.
I miss him.
I decided it would be nice to put my words about my grandpa in this blog as a tribute to him.
These are just my thoughts and my feelings jotted down. It's not a paper or a story. It has not been edited or altered. It was just what came to mind the week that I lost my Grandpa. pure and simple.
May 2009
Grandpa Bud was an amazing man. Truly the strongest, kindest, gentlest, most caring man I’ve ever known.
One of my favorite stories was how I first met him. Grandma tells the story best. She said she knew Grandpa was a keeper the moment she saw me crawl up in his lap the first time I saw him and start playing with the pens in his shirt pocket. She told me it was love at first sight for both of us. He was so patient and loving with her baby granddaughter. She knew she had found herself a very special man. As far as I was concerned Grandpa’s lap was one of my favorite place to be. I would spend a lot of time there over the years. I would climb up in Grandpa’s lap where he would read my favorite book to me or tell me a story, or watch tv. or, I would just sit there with him and we would be quiet together.
Of course, the other best place to be was in Grandpa’s garden. He had the greenest thumb of anybody I ever knew. His garden was beautiful and always flourished. On our annual Summer weeks together, my brothers and I loved to go out and pick in the garden with Grandpa…from delicious, green peas to green beans, raspberries and strawberries…my favorites were the strawberries…when it was strawberry picking day, Grandpa would uncover them, and the strawberry search would begin…it wasn’t unusual to see 3 kids with red stained mouths and fingers by the time we were done…but Grandpa never minded….
I always remember Grandpa working. It wasn’t unusual to wake up to the sound of the lawn mower running…which is funny, but, that never bothered me…instead it just announced the dawn of another beautiful Summer day that we had to look forward to with Grandpa and Grandma. Grandpa had the most beautiful yard on the street…seriously, not a weed in sight! The grass was so green. Many days were spent running around playing in that yard. He took great pride in his yard, and it showed.
Grandpa had many filbert trees and he always sent home grocery bags filled with filberts. I remember Grandpa always muttering about the battle with various pests that would attack the nuts…he never gave up, but he always battled those pests with a vengeance, and we reaped the benefits! As far as my brothers and I were concerned filbert nuts weren’t anything special because we had them flowing out our ears…all the family knows what I’m talking about…it wasn’t until recent years and we no longer had the gift of those filberts that we learned to really appreciate them….it was when I went to the store and had to buy some…WOW…I never knew the filbert or “hazelnut”, as the stores called them were such a delicacy and so expensive…
If Grandpa wasn’t working, he was in his chair reading , napping…or smoking his pipe, Sir Walter Raleigh pipe tobacco…I love that smell, it smelled of Grandpa…eventually, Grandpa had to stop smoking that pipe for his health… it was very hard for him to do…. I think he splurged from time to time on special occasions and had just one. Grandpa loved that pipe…he enjoyed it, and I enjoyed the comfort of that smell…funny, how smell can bring you right back to specific moments and when it’s gone…you miss it immensely.
Grandpa loved flowers, he loved camping and fishing. He and Grandma would have annual flower sniffing trips where they would search out rare species of flowers. I had the joy of accompanying them on some of these trips…we would hike for what seemed like hours…and when they happened to find one of the flowers…the joy in their faces was amazing. Simply put, Grandpa just loved nature , whether work or play he loved being outside.
Grandpa loved trains…and would read whatever he could about them…he loved the strength of them, the looks of them, the sound of them…he had various recordings of train engines, whistles, and sounds. He loved listening to them. We always knew a good gift for Grandpa would be anything to do with trains…
Grandpa also loved reading. He and Grandma have the hugest library of anybody I’ve ever known…, it could pass for a small public library. Books about anything and everything. He was so smart, the smartest man I know. but, he was also wise and had such wonderful words of wisdom to give. I miss his voice so much already. I am afraid I will forget it...just the voice, not the words.
Grandpa always had his camera around his neck…he took pictures of everything…. he would put on “Grandpa’s famous slide shows” All of the grandkids looked forward to these shows. There would be slides of flowers, animals, scenery, and lots and lots of family and friends…each grandkid would sit patiently just waiting for the slides that showed themselves….Grandpa and Grandma would talk about each photo, where they were and what they were doing…I never realized how much I would miss Grandpa’s slide shows… what I would give for just one more afternoon, laying on the floor, listening to his voice and watching his beautiful slides…
Above all else Grandpa loved his family…he was the rock of this family, our hero. Words cannot express how he felt about his family and how his family felt about him. He had this special way of making each person feel so special, so loved. He always had time for his grandkids…no matter what he was doing, he would stop and listen or give a hug or tell a story or a joke. His laugh was beautiful. He was beautiful….I never in my 37 years heard him say a harsh word or an unkind one…unless it was about the crooked politicians and what they were doing to this great country ... then, watch out…he simply would not tolerate these “imbisals” that were ruining this great country and the state of Oregon that he loved so dearly! Grandpa came from an era of honesty, character, and integrity…and it angered and saddened him to see these qualities become extinct in gov’t and men. He taught his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren these qualities not just with words, but especially by how he lived…we all wanted to make Grandpa proud.
…Thank you, Grandpa for being the constant man in my life…Thank you for always being there…I treasured every second with you… I will miss your priceless kisses and the way you held my face in your hands and the way your scratchy whiskers felt upon my face…I will always be your Shani-Baby…and I will miss you dearly…
A silly little blog about my lifelong love affair with sugar...and why my life would be dull without it's shimmery sweetness.
5. I love how it sticks to things, like: my finger, the rims of glasses, on sour patch kids, and the tops of cookies when rolled in it....I don't like it, however, sticking to my floor. 
