Grandparents (Entry number 200!)
I only have one grandfather left, of my four original grandparents. I'd like to take a moment to remember all of them. (I'm going to use first names because you don't need to know my maiden name or my mother's maiden name, thank you very much.)
Alden
Alden was my father's father. He died when I was 11. I miss him a bunch. He was a smart, gentle and excited about everything and everyone. He was one of the warmest and most welcoming men I've ever known. If he were alive today, he'd be the only 92-year-old around with a computer, a DVD player, a cell phone, and possibly his own web site. He loved learning new stuff and building new stuff. He would have loved the internet and would have loved the man my brother grew up to be. I still see Alden in my brother.
Beulah
Beulah always hated her name. She said it suited a cow better than a person. She was Alden's wife. She was a worrier. For all the jumping-in-headfirst that Alden did, she was there to scream, "You're going to crack your head open!" from the sidelines. I think she might have had some form of Asperger's syndrome, because she was incapable of understanding some forms of humor, like sarcasm. She was also a bit of a racist. But she loved her family more than anything and was absolutely devoted to her husband. She was also very intelligent. She was volunteering to do taxes for people who couldn't afford an accountant well into her 70's. At a time when women were expected to be meek housewives, she worked full time and never really liked cooking or cleaning. She lived without ever paying attention to stereotypes of what women were supposed to be. She lived exactly how she wanted to live and didn't care what anyone thought. It broke my heart when dementia took away her best mental gifts, and left her lingering with the full awareness of what she had lost.
Marilyn
Marilyn was my mother's mother. She is the one who taught me to cook and play music and make stuff. Not directly, but through my mom. To the outside, she looked a lot like the opposite of my other grandmother. She cooked like you wouldn't believe. She knew how to embroider and play four or five musical instruments. She was a talented artist, even if the only audience who saw it was her family. She had six kids, and every one of them is some type of artist or musician. As are many of her grandchildren. She was never a weak and opinionless woman. She didn't like an argument, but she did have her own thoughts and opinions. She was stolen from the family by aggressive breast cancer when I was in college. She was only 64. She was far too young.
Bill
Bill is the one who is still alive. He's a tough strong man, with a creamy nougat center. He loved my grandmother and they were best friends until the day she died. I think his example is part of what made my parents good parents. He had rules for his kids, and they had to follow them. But they weren't unreasonable rules. There was enough flexibility to allow for the kids to play all manner of musical instruments all over the house, and to account for a fantastic tarzan rope in the yard. He always seems like a gruff bear of a man, but it's all show. He likes to have fun and he loves his family. After my grandmother died, he got a "girlfriend" who was really just a companion and close friend. Her name was Jeanie. She helped him through the loneliness of losing my grandmother and gave him someone to talk to.
Jeanie died a few days ago. She was the second woman taken from my grandfather by breast cancer. I'm going to miss her. She was quick-witted and fun. I only have one grandparent left, and his heart is broken right now. And I'm thousands of miles away and unable to do anything about it.
Next time you have an opportunity to donate to a cancer charity, maybe throw in a couple of dollars with my grandfather in mind. He could also use prayers right now because he's in a lot of pain.
I hate cancer.
Alana
