Grandparents

Nancy Merrill is hosting a photo challenge. The prompt this week: Grandparents

IN A NEW POST CREATED FOR THIS CHALLENGE, SHARE A PHOTO OR TWO FEATURING GRANDPARENTS OF ANY KIND.

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I think of my grandparents often. I have written about them in this blog many times. I miss them still. I have included links to their birthday posts for those who would like a peek at the lives of these exceptional grandparents. Two of my favorite photographs are posted below.

 
My four grandparents were the definition of unconditional love.

 

May 1957 opa oma 042 copy
Opa and Oma with me (age 3) and my sister

Opa – my mother’s father, wrote me countless letters (which I still have). I was his “Pen Pal.” He showered me with words of encouragement and support in all my childhood adventures. His sense of humor is family legend. He awakened my love of all things cards and games. Opa and I would sit across from each other playing Pinochle for hours on end…one of my last memories of him.

Oma – my mother’s mother, learned to drive a car so she could make the 45 minute trip from NY to visit me – her first grandchild. At the age of 47. She baked birthday cakes for her grandchildren and made a mean macaroni and cheese. She wrote to me at camp and sent postcards from her and Opa’s many trips around the USA. We became very close as she spent her last few years near my home.

 

grammypapa and me
Grammy & Papa and me (age 3)

Grammy – my father’s mother, lived many hours away from my family…but she wrote me countless letters – full of details of her life “down South” with her sisters. After Papa died, I got to know her better as she made extended visits to stay with us. She was a character and not afraid to speak her mind. An expert seamstress, she made dress-up outfits for my sister and me. Doll clothes too.

Papa – my father’s father, made an impression on me during the short time I knew him…as he died unexpectedly the year I turned 10. I still have a few of his letters. I remember him as a quiet, sweet and patient man who made me feel special.

 

[As a grandparent to a spectacular 3 year old, I now understand how much fun it is!]

Three

 

balloons

When you turn three, maybe you can count that high.

With your fingers. Grapes on your plate. Cheerios. Green beans.

My grandson turned 3 today.  I was lucky enough to travel to Washington, DC to spend the weekend with him, his parents and his dog.

And attend…two parties.
One with his friends yesterday.
One with family today.

Whew!

Two days filled with doing his favorite things…

Climbing. Running. Jumping. Giggling. Singing. Eating. Walking. Talking. Baseball. Basketball. Shouting…

Grandma Come!

 

park
Saturday Party at the Park

…Backhoes. Dump Trucks. Front Loaders. Construction Cones…everywhere!

 

bday morning
Sunday morning

 

Birthday morning visit to the National Zoo.  Lions…no tigers or bears…but monkeys, alpacas, an orangutang, cows, goats, donkeys, elephants and a gorilla family…oh my.

zoo

 

Afternoon with family from near and far. Sharing a small boy’s celebration of a third year of living life. Joyfully. Playfully. With energy to spare.

Blue eyes full of fun, love and mischief. Hints of his mother long ago, but mostly just uniquely him.

birthday 9th

 

Grampa and I fly home tomorrow.

We will look through the hundreds of photos we took.

Smile.

And sleep.

 

 

 

Nostalgia

Nancy Merrill is hosting a photo challenge. The theme this week: Nostalgia

 

charm bracelet
When I was five years old, my Opa and Oma gave me a charm bracelet.

At least I think I was 5.

My clue?

A birthday cake charm with 5 candles that pop up if you push the lever underneath it. Pushing up with a just-the-right-size 5 year old finger. I especially remember the charms with the movable parts.

They added charms to the bracelet for many years. Birthday gifts or just because. Each charm meant something special. Several were souvenirs from their trips to Europe.

Such sweet memories…
A bicycle…I loved to ride.
A baby shoe…as I used to wear.
A mailbox…Opa and I were penpals.
Ballet shoes…my short lived stint taking lessons.
Piano…5 years of lessons and all I can still play is Chopsticks.

My favorite is the deck of cards charm. With actual cards inside – at one point I took them all out to check. And then put them all back.

It reminds me of O&O, as I called them. But especially Opa, who taught me everything I know about cards, game strategy and how much fun it is to play.

Although the 6 ½ inch bracelet no longer fits my wrist, it will always make me smile as I recall how it came to be.

 

 

 

(Photos taken with my new Canon EOS RP Mirrorless Full Frame DSLR. Canon RF 35mm F1.8 Macro IS STM lens)

 

Happy Birthday Papa

Chopsticks!

Papa showed me how to play the classic simple song. A waltz actually. On his piano.
Sitting right beside me. Just the 2 of us.
At his big old house in Cincinnati, Ohio. One warm day in the 1960’s during a rare family visit.
I was only 8 years old.  I wish it had been the first of many lessons.

Papa, my paternal grandfather, was born March 9, 1886 in Chicago, Illinois. The middle child of five.  I don’t know much about his early life except he met Grammy when passing through her small rural Tennessee town. He often traveled by train from Cincinnati, working as a lumber inspector for his brother’s company. He rented a room in my grandmother’s childhood home during stops in Graysville. He eventually won her over…and that was that!

Papa and Grammy married and raised my father and his older sister in Cincinnati, where Papa owned and operated a lumber company. No small feat for a man with only an 8th grade education.

I probably saw Papa maybe a dozen times before he died unexpectedly at the age of 78. Cincinnati was very far away from where I lived on the east coast. Visits did not happen often. The last one was a whirlwind car trip a few weeks before he died.

papa& me baby006
Papa and me

What do I remember about Papa?

He was a short quiet man with kind brown eyes. Papa loved to put on his cap and go for long walks. Sometimes he asked me – just me! – to join him. During one of those walks, he stopped, plucked a wide blade of grass from a nearby patch and carefully positioned it between the sides of his thumbs. He pressed his thumbs together…held them up to his mouth, took a deep breath, puffed out his cheeks…and blew out…. It whistled!
Was this magic?
He then plucked one for me. And waited calmly until I was able to make it whistle all by myself.
I’m (obviously) still impressed all these years later.

I learned how to play chopsticks on the piano during one long…patient…lesson with him. Later, in their sunny kitchen, we’d sit across from each other by the window and play double solitaire. Or a new card game he taught me called 7Up.  At the metal table with the shiny sides and checkered formica top.

papa and me
Papa and me
circa 1958-59

Sadly our connection was short lived, but fortunately he left his loving stamp on my memory…and my heart.

papa letter004 copy

Happy Birthday Papa!

papa fishing007
Fishing in Tennessee

 

[ps…Papa would be thrilled to know…that coincidentally…his middle name is the same as his great great grandson’s first name…and…also coincidentally…they were both born on the 9th day of the month…]

 

Love and Hearts and Grandparents

If we have someone who loves us — I don’t mean who indulges us, but who loves us enough to be on our side — then it’s easier to grow resilience, to grow belief in self, to grow self-esteem. And it’s self-esteem that allows a person to stand up.

Maya Angelou

 

 

from Grammy 1966

 

valentine's card 1967038
from Great Grandma 1967

 

I have much to be grateful for in my life. The love of family is at the top of the list. As a child…and then as an adult…I was well loved by my grandparents. Held up. Cherished. Accepted.

All four of my grandparents – and my one living great grandparent – took the time to write to me. Personal letters. Postcards. Valentines. Birthday cards….
I heard from them on a regular basis…knowing I was important in their lives. And not forgotten, even though we lived miles apart.

Treasured pages of handwritten news, stories, questions about my life and plans for the future….
Offering encouragement and understanding
And unconditional love.

 

Photo a day challenge – Hearts

RDP – Intimate

 

Homecoming 1964

This post inspired by Ragtag Daily Prompt: Homecoming

Homecoming

Prompt questions: Have you ever left home? Have you ever returned?

Answer: Yes and no.

I left home in my mind many times growing up. I had a small knapsack tucked in the back corner of my overfilled closet…containing what I must have considered necessities. Quarters. Tissues. Comb. Toothbrush. Underwear. Perhaps Bazooka bubble gum.
Since I never followed through on my plan, there was never any homecoming.

Coming home from summer camps, summer jobs, college…all happened without much fanfare. And my uneasy life would fall into place once again.

More joyous childhood homecomings were wrapped up with my grandparents, who I adored. One in particular took place in 1964.  My widowed great grandmother lived in Ohio and traveled to the East Coast to visit only a few times before she died in 1968. She was sweet and very soft spoken. Her skin…smooth and powdery. Fragile. She was my mother’s grandmother.

When she made the trip, it was a homecoming of sorts as she was able to spend time with her daughter (my grandmother) as well. We always made a very special occasion out of her visits. Celebration meals. Trips. And…lots of photographs.

The 4 generation pose was popular. My sisters, brother and I took turns sitting with my mother, grandmother and great grandmother.

I don’t remember if we were instructed in how to pose.

dec 1964021
Four generations – 1964