Gramps

A

akivory

Joined
Feb 5, 2001
Messages
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How important was or is your grandfather? I never really knew mine. My mothers father was the only grandparent alive when I was born and he lived across the country and i rarely saw him.
Tonight my 10th grandson will be born. I have only one granddaughter.
I can honestly say there has been nothing in my life more satisfying than watching these little guys grow up and being part of their life.
I told my wife before we married 28 years ago that I would be happy if I always had children in my life. it looks like my wish has been fulfilled. We still have in our home four daughters that are adopted or will be soon.
I get to do all the fun stuff like teaching them to fish, and going to gun shows.
 
My best memories of a Grandpa, are not of a blood relative, but technically a "step". My grandmother was a young widow, and worked as a nurses aid. A man was in the hospital in a coma for 6 weeks after a car crash that killed his wife and left him horribly injured. My Grandmother took care of him in the hospital, and after he recovered and was released, they stayed in touch and after some time, began dating and were married when I was 2.

I was with him when I was 9 and learned my dad was dead.

I learned an awful lot about fishing and guns and such from him, and never grew tired of listening to his stories, right up until he died at 97 about 5 years ago.

I could not have asked for a better Grandpa, and every time I hear that Brad Paisley song about "He didn't have to be", I think about him.
 
My Grandapa's were BOTH very important to me!! My Mom's Dad became my Mom & Dad to me when my parents divorced when I was 5. He was everything to me!! He played games with me, took me for walks, made sure that I knew he loved me, yelled at me for climbing trees. It was hard to watch him slowly die of Cancer when I was 8.

My other Grandpa was equally wonderful too. I LOVED spending time with him, and talking with him. Because of my wonderful Grandparents, I grew up with the utmost respect for my elders.

I miss my Grandparents greatly!! They are all gone.
 
I've got 15-20 pages of journal entries on both of my grandfathers; both were WW II vets, and decorated.

I knew my dad's father, I talked to him quite a bit. He died when I was 12. He taught me to shoot, fish, and showed me some really outrageous practical jokes.

My mom's father, I didn't know, but heard a lot about him at the family reunions we went to, and from my grandmother. He was in the army of occupation in Japan after the surrender, and apparently saw some pretty horrific things from the atomic bombing; he apparently wouldn't tell anyone but my grandmother about it. (Thank God I wrote down most of it as she told me.) He brought home an Arasaka rifle, to be given to the first grandson born. That was me, and I have the rifle now, and two of his pocket knives.

thx - cpr
 
You know, I never knew any of my grandfathers. My grandfather on my Mother's side died of a stroke almost a day after I was born. My grandfather on my Dad's side died when I was about 1 in a car accident. Of course I'm envious when I hear friends say that they learned about knives, fishing, or guns from their grandpa. I learned about knives and guns on my own. Never ever gone fishing. But, Akivory, I'm very happy to hear that you have a great family, grandchildren sounds like a lot of fun. You get to pass the knowledge that you accumulated through the years to them. =]
 
My father's father wasn't quite as important as I would have cared for.

He died when I was in the 6th grade, and I wasn't able to spend much time with him.

My mother's father died before I was born, but he was apparently a violent abusive drunk, so perhaps it's for the best.
 
My fathers father died when he was a child, so I never knew him.

My maternal grandfather on the other hand was the single most influential person in my life after my father died. He really shaped me into the man I am today, and even though he is long gone I measure myself against the man constantly. In my mind he is not only the base line for a "man", but also the perfect model for a Mainer. Inteligent, hardworking, fiercely independant!
Born in the 20's he could clearly and vividly recall the Depression, which for Maine really started ten years early. One of his favorite expressions was a mild rebuke: "A man should be glad to have a hard days work to lay his hands to." In other words, stop complaining and be glad to have work!
WWII Vet with the 5th Rangers, saw a lot of action and was wounded. He had a lot of wisdom to share, and I wish I had asked more questions those times he was in a talkative mood which was rare. I remember picking up the newspaper in 94 and seeing a article about him in it on the 50th of D-Day. A lot of the stuff in the article was news to me.....he just didn't talk about it that much.
An excellent woodsman. He was staunchly a hatchet man. I swear there was nothing he couldn't do on a camping trip with just a hatchet and pocket knife.
Like most people of his generation he had a wealth of practical skills. Carpentry, masonry, plumbing, electrical (by trade), mechanical. He seemed to know at least a little about everything, and be damn good at most of it.
But he was also inteligent. He spoke four langauges, was well read, could debate history, politics, or ecconomics.
Above all would have to be his strong moral code. There was right and there was wrong....and there was never a good excuse. Now by 2008 standards the "right" but butt heads with the "legal" but that was Grampy. Fighting, and hell-raising could be forgiven within a certain degree, (and he generally felt the cops had no business in it) but stealing was right up there with murder. Better to swallow your pride and beg like a damn dog than steal. On the similar note, he could be very generous when people were in need. It was hard for nearly anyone to stop by the old house and not walk out with a bag of potatos and some of Grammy's canned good.....and maybe a pie if they timed it right.:D But he knew, and was clear to me, on the differnce between compassion and a hand-out. He had no issue helping people out, but more than once stated that "leeches" like welfare people should either work or starve to death. I have no doubt he meant it.
All of this set the bar for me. To this day if I am hurrying to do get something done I can almost hear him behind me: "You gonna do that fast or do it right?"

Last of the Breed. Miss him a lot.
 
Both my grandfathers were a big part of my life growing up and are a big part of who I am today. I still have favorite memories of both: my father's father sneaking me a warm beer hidden behind the lawnmower in the garage when I cruised into his yard on my bike at about 15 or 16, my mother's father and I hopping a low chain-link fence, when he was around 75, going into a high school football stadium and he turning to the crowd and yelling "You didn't think I could do it, did ya!"

I think it's really up to granddad himself - if he wants to be important to the grandkids he will make the effort to be a part of their lives.
 
I hope I live long enough to see Grandkids... actually, I hope they are just like my kids...as in giving them the same problems! :D

My blood maternal grandfather disappeared during WW II, it is unclear if he was killed or not. My Grandmother met and started dating a nice gentleman who became my Grandfather. I believe their first date was to visit me in the hospital right when I was born. Grandpa Ed was one of the most interesting people I've ever met. He was a master chemist for S.C. Johnson, and helped create many of their products. After he retired, he had several passions and hobbies. He grew a fantastic garden, many veggies were canned, homemade jellies and jams, and also kept bees to make his own honey. He also was a rock and fossil hound. He made his own jewelry and other lapidary pieces. Later on in life he took up whittling (as in art, like little statues). He dabbled rather successfully in poetry. He was seemingly a man of infinite talents. I dearly miss him.

My paternal Grandfather was from a large family of kids born on a farm in north central Wisconsin. He was a rather vigorous man until well into his late 80's. He was one of the most kindest, gentlest and honest of men you would ever have met. He served in the Navy in WW-I, was involved with music his entire life and devoted his retired life to his church... basically did the accounting for free. Grandpa Nels lived well into his 90's, as did all but one of his siblings... the only one who smoked died of lung cancer in his 70's. Hopefully those longevity genes are present in me.

I miss them both, and hope to be even just half the man either was.
 
The little guy was born Friday night. Saturday I took three of the grandsons and a three year old foster son to Pioneer Park. They had the steam engine running and we rode the train around the park. After buying snow cones we fed the ducks climbed on a fire truck and rode the old merry-go-round. I then spent over an hour watching these guys . After climbing swinging and sliding they found a big mud puddle. It was a perfect day!
 

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Never knew mine. They paid high health penalties working / fighting for their countries.

My father's dad barely survived the Somme then somehow Changi. I ensure my kids get to see their one in Belfast SA as often as possible.
 
I was very close to my Grandpa as a child, but then the distance grew as I was a stupid teenager and then moved away to university and work in another city.

One of my MAJOR regrets in life was not building that relationship back up again.

So if your grand-dad is still around --- go see him NOW.

Now excuse me while I go have a good cry....
 
Well as far as my Grandfathers go i dont recall much about my dad's dad. But i've been told he always thought there was something special out there for me, he died when i was about 8.
But my mom's dad, Papa, has been more of a father than my dad. So he's very important to me. Encourages me when i need it, yells at me when i do retarded things, listens to me when i need someone to just hear what i have to say. Taught me everything i know about baseball and softball too.
So obviously i love him very much and i am so blessed i still have him around. :)
Jes
 
My mother's parents were migrant farm workers. They babysat me when I was pre-preschool age. I remember Grandpa Julio gave me my first Budweiser, he always had a beer in his hand. He also had tattoos and would draw tattoos on my arms. They died when I was still in the single digits.

My dad's dad, John E. Freeman, was one of the greatest gunsmiths in Stockton, and most likely CA. He owned a gun shop with a range in the basement. He knew guns in and out and made many from raw billets. He was also an alcoholic and a skirt chaser which caused my grandmother to take her 2 boys and leave. He died 5-8 years ago. He was legally blind from retinal detatchment. I remember making him a holster when I was 11 for a NAA .22 mini revolver. He had me make him a screwdriver as well. I guess I know where I got my interests from, as I am also an alcoholic and am getting into making weapons of my own.

She married the man who I always considered my real grandpa. Charlie Albertini put in 40 years on the gas fields for PG+E. He never had a formal education. When he retired, it took 4 college trained engineers to do his job. He was also a WW2 vet, a motor SGT with the 20th Armored Div. He earned several good conduct ribbons, a purple heart, and a CIB. I think it's cool that I earned my CIB with Ft. Campbell and he earned his deploying from Camp Campbell. My first experience with guns and knives was with him. I have faint memories of sitting on his lap as he cleaned the shit out of my nails with his Buck pocketknife. I always looked forward to every visit whether it was in Modesto, Lake Almanor, or Chico. He taught me to almost everything he knew. He gave me my first rifle when I was 11, an RWS .177 carbine. I think he was a major influence on a lot of my life. He just celebrated his 88th in June. A very good man. I really don't want to think about losing him.
 
I got to know my stepgrandfather fairly well. Rass passed away when I was around 24 or 25. Really neat man. He was a retired wildcat oil driller out of Oklahoma. He and my grandmother married when she was in her late 40's. My older brother and I spent quite a bit of time with them in the summer in our early teens. They had a summer house out in Colorado and would come through Wichita from Tulsa and pick us up. We would go up with them and spend 2-3 weeks opening up the cabin. This was a true log home - big pine floor boards, cement chinking, navaho rugs, hummingbirds, and a mountain behind the house to explore. There was an apartment over the garage that the boys slept in - I remember how cold it would get in the morning - grandma fixed a fantastic breakfast. We spent quite a bit of time washing windows, picking up the yard, mowing, spreading gravel on the drives, and anything else they could think of to keep us busy. Grandpa had an old hardtop willys jeep. He was in charge of the water system for the town and would throw us in the jeep, put a big wad of redman in his cheek and off we would go. Taking care of the water system consisted of checking the pumps and the water tanks - took about 10 minutes - the rest of the time was spent cruising the colorado countryside. Grandpa liked to barbeque - smoked hams and briskets, corn on the cob. apple pie. I still can remember my grandma crabbing at him and him teasing her back. They came up to visit when I was in my late teens and was home for the summer. Rass asked me "Boy, what are ya doin this afternoon?" I replied that I didn't have anything on my plate. "How would you like to do a little shofferin?" I said that that sounded fine. We spent most of that Saturday driving the backroads of Butler county which is east of Wichita in his caddy looking at his oil leases and the old historic oil patches from back in the 20's and 30's were he got his start in the business. Had lunch at a little diner in some little town that I had never heard of before. "Boy, this has been a day to remember!!" I usually got called boy. He and grandma headed back to Tulsa later on that week. It wasn't too long after that that he got sick and passed away. I always enjoyed his company, whether it was in Wichita, or out in Colorado, or down in Tulsa in the big house.
 
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