My Grandpa

My grandpa passed away yesterday morning at age 95 after a long and full life.  He was such an inspiration of faith and courage.  He and my grandma were married just days after Pearl Harbor, knowing full well that he would be drafted and sent off to war.  While my grandpa was in Europe for the war, my grandma stayed with her parents and raised the son they had together before Grandpa was sent overseas.  My grandpa commanded a squadron of M-18s across Europe, starting at Omaha Beach and ending on the east side of Germany 18 months later. Eventually they were reunited after the war's end and had 9 more children! The oldest of those 9 was my dad--the original baby boomer.

My friend sent me a message this morning about my grandpa that said, "What a sweet man who raised an even sweeter son."  That summed it up perfectly.  And it brought to mind a story.

My kids have a long list of stories my dad used to tell them.  These stories came to be known as "Bad Robert" stories about some of the mischief my dad got into as a kid.  Nothing major, just shooting windows out of a fish hatchery, installing a secret second phone through the basement ceiling, inadvertently causing a multi-car accident on 7th East when he was about 8, setting firecrackers up in the folding chairs of his sunday school class, and so on.  Just the kind of monkey business a child of the 50s could get into without getting caught.

My favorite story is about strawberries.

My dad was about 5, and by that time my grandma had a house full of four little boys.  My dad and his younger brother shared a bedroom just off of the kitchen.  Grandma sent the boys into their bedroom to take a nap one day, but she forgot about several cases of strawberries she had just purchased that she had left on the dresser in that room.  She was planning to make jam later that afternoon.  Well, a bunch of strawberries and 2 small boys in a closed room was a recipe for disaster.  First my dad and his brother started to eat the strawberries.  Soon my dad picked up a strawberry that was what he described as "Squooshy."  The squooshy-ness surprised him, and he flung the strawberry against the newly-wallpapered wall.  He was astounded by the awesome shape the strawberry made as it splattered against the wall.  He and his brother looked at each other, and they both knew what they had to do.  The rest of those strawberries were soon catapulted against the wall.  My dad said that if the berries were too firm, they would "pre-squoosh" them in their hands and then throw them at the wall--otherwise the berries just bounced off.  They loved watching all the shapes the berries made as they hit the wall and splattered all over.   Soon, Grandma could hear the commotion and laughter coming from the bedroom.  She opened the door and could not believe what she saw.  She started crying and scolded those boys.  She was so upset about the wasted berries, the jam that wouldn't be, and also the incredible mess that she now had to clean up.  She didn't know what to do with the boys, so in exasperation she said, "You just wait until your father gets home and see what he does with you."

Grandpa was a bricklayer, and arrived home at the end of a long day of physical labor.  He was dirty, sweaty and tired.  Grandma told him what mischief the boys had gotten into that day.  Grandpa marched the boys into the bedroom to see the damage.  The boys were expecting the worst, but my grandpa surprised everyone.  He started laughing.  Hysterically laughing at what his sons had thought up to do with those berries.  He laughed at the mess.  He laughed at the patterns the berries had made on the wall.  He laughed at the trouble the boys had caused their mother.  Through his laughter, he said, "I wish I had done something like that when I was a boy."  What an example of love.  He knew that the mess was temporary, that there would be another day for strawberry jam, but that his reaction to the situation would leave an everlasting imprint in the minds and hearts of his boys.   To him, life was about much more than strawberries smashed on a wall.  It was about family, forever, true love, and fun.