It’s weird the way the mind works.
I was walking to work this morning and I thought about the last time I saw my Grandpa Ed. I remembered our conversation, how he told me he loved my short hair. He was laying in his bed, frail and wasting away, and I burst into tears. I realized at that moment that this would be the last time I saw him and I couldn’t hold them back. My heart just completely broke apart in that moment. I thought about the look of resignation and sadness on his face when he saw me cry. It was an awkward moment that was also filled with understanding and love. He said a few words, something like, “It’s okay, don’t cry Moni.” And I realized I needed to pull myself together because a person on their death bed should not be consoling a person who is visiting them, saying goodbye. But that is exactly what happened.
As I was walking along, thinking these thoughts this morning, I wondered why this moment popped into my head today. And then I realized it was because of the photo above, shared on Facebook by my mom yesterday in honor of National Sibling Day. The portrait of me and my siblings was taken the week I came home to say goodbye to my grandfather.
I loved seeing it yesterday, it was made for her as a gift for Mothers Day in 1995. But it’s weird how your brain unconsciously plays connect the dots and that somehow it reminded me of this moment with my grandfather.
This is a poem to my Grandpa Ed
Who smiles at me from these faded pictures.
Who holds my grandmother happily among the corns stalks.
Who stands, posing in front of his truck,
With his children, with his brothers and sisters.
This is a poem to my Grandpa Ed
Who tells the story of the day he met my grandmother.
Who tells the story about a dance. He saw her and loved her.
Who tells the story about how he fought for her.
Who tells the story about how he won her over.
This is a poem for my Grandpa Ed
Who was thin and dying, lying in a hospital bed.
Who was dying from a wasting disease.
Whose last words to me were,
“I like you hair short. It looks very pretty like that.”
I scanned a truckload of old photos when my mom was here last weekend and this is one of them. Apparently, my Grandpa Ed owned an airplane and this is it. He didn’t know how to fly it. My mom says that my grandmother was MAD when he brought it home and it sat in their yard for years and years. This story makes me laugh. I love that my grandpa impulsively bought an airplane. I wonder what he was thinking?
I mentioned that I inherited several cameras last month from my Grandparent’s house. I’ve been having a blast playing with them!
There are a couple that I am especially happy about. One of them is my Grandpa Ed’s Honeywell Pentax.
When I got the camera it had film in it. I was very excited to discover this. Unfortunately I discovered this when I opened the back, exposing all of the lost cherished memories. I decided to finish off the roll anyway but I didn’t know how to use the camera and made really odd exposures so nothing turned out on the roll at all. I got to endure the ridicule of the Walgreens “Photo Expert.” So that was fun.
However, when I fall down I pick myself back up and try again. I loaded it up with cheap drugstore Fuji Film, and armed with knowledge gleaned from the operating manual, I was off and running!
I brought it to work and shot the entire roll on my walk home in the evening, finishing it off with a slightly-drunken evening stroll with the Mr. later on. Dropped it off at Walgreens and an hour later I had the results.
omygoodness I am very happy. I think my grandfather’s camera and I will get along just fine.
My grandparents. They were so adorable. They drove that there camper every year from Coeur d’Alene, Idaho down to Mexico. Every year! The always brought home ephemera from their trips (as you can see). This photo was taken camping somewhere in Idaho. Probably at Lake Pend Oreille.