Grandpa

Every day there is something that reminds me of my Grandpa.

I drove past an ice cream shop a couple days ago and remembered the many times he would take my sister and me to Marble Slab on Sunday's to get a waffle cone. He would always point out how they used a "marble slab" to mix in the toppings and laughed because both of us would want our ice cream plain. I would always get sweet cream, and Ciara would always get strawberry. Grandpa would make fun of her because every time he asked her what she wanted, she would always reply "I like strawberry!" I can't tell you how many times we've repeated that phrase over the years! That was such a fun ans special moment every Sunday.

This past Wednesday I was looking through some children's books to read to my class during our child development unit, and I remembered my Grandpa sitting in his chair in the kitchen reading to Ciara. There was the book about the old woman and all those "damn rabbits" in which he taught my sister to recite everytime. I thought it was hilarious; my mom, not so much. And then there was "Katy the Kitten." When Grandpa would ask her to get a book from the back room, it never failed that she would bring it back, but Grandpa would always read it. I remember him reading to me as well. There was this book about a boy and his friend "bear," and he would always yell "beans!" That was my "Grandpa" book.


A couple night ago when I was bringing some ice cream to Greg, I clanked the spoon against the side of the bowl and told him my Grandpa would always do this to "call" Trey in from the living room. Trey only being a baby, would crawl right to Grandpa knowing he was about to get some vanilla ice cream!

I remember Grandpa teaching me how to play poker with a stack of nickles to gamble with, when he would give us his spare change to put the silver in the safe and the pennies in the water jug, watching the old cartoons with him in the living room, making Bonnie bark like crazy when he would yell her name as he walked up to our front door, laughing when he would get socks and underwear from Grandma for Christmas, taking Clyde for walks and coming back to tell me he let him poop on my first grade teacher's lawn (he called her Meanie Deanie... her name was Mrs, Diner.), convincing me that all my teachers would hang out at the bar after school, joking to my mom that she never fed us because we would pig out on red licorice and Grandma's soup when we came over, when he would tell us that he gave Santa Clause whiskey instead of milk and cookies, laughing when I would leave him and my uncle Bruce silly messages on the white board in his office, making fun of Polish people, teasing my Grandma of how "bad a wife she was" and that she made him "miserable" when we all knew he loved her so much, and how he would have traded the world for his grandchildren.

My Grandpa was the most humble and giving person, and never wanted anything in return or any attention on himself. I think we can all agree he deserved a million more years with us.

We miss you so much Grandpa.