Alfa convertible that he would take us kids out in individually. I think of him more as I get a little older. He passed away 8 years ago.It is amazing how small things can trigger a tidal wave of memories. It has been 10 years since my Mom died and I think I've spent the better part of those 10 years thinking very little of my Mom, my Grandpa and others since.
I've spent the better part of those years putting all that behind me and moving on. If you've ever lost someone (and most likely you have) maybe you have experienced something similar. There are lots of conversation about who that person was and what they meant; to you, to the family, to their friends, to their community. I remember thinking a great deal of years afterward, of all the mistakes they made, that I felt everyone pointed out after they were gone. Which, in my opinion, isn't that fair. I mean, they don't get to defend themselves. Anyway, maybe as part of a coping mechanism, I picked up on all the negative things people said (or that I misconstrued) as a way to justify their death. As a way to be 'ok' with it, to reconcile the loss in my heart and mind.
As humans, I think we like to compartmentalize things in our mind (at least that is what I find), makes it easier to deal with things. In my personal journey to adulthood I've learned that, in the person (or people) I've lost, they are not lost to my past. They are not just a part of who I was. In their life and death, they are a major part of who I am and what I'm becoming.
Some say that time heals all wounds. I'm not so sure how fair that statement is. Now, years later, I don't find myself thinking less and less of my loved ones. I find myself thinking differently. Instead of the bad habits they had and poor choices they made, I am more often reminded of the moments I shared. The rest of the entry is devoted to some special memories of my Mom and Grandpa. I realize I may lose all (three) readers I might have at this point. That is ok. I think this is all part of my growth and learning to live in their memory as they help shape my future.
Pancakes: I have many memories of making pancakes with my Mom and brother on Saturday mornings. We used a green glass bowl and always fought over who got to lick the spoon and bowl (we consumed raw egg product, and lived, get over it). Glorious Bisquick.
Sailboat: My grandpa owned a sailboat and would often take us kids out during the summer time. I remember loving that the bridges had to rise on the Willamette and my Grandpa teaching me how to steer the boat.
Cooking: I think my love of food and cooking came from HOURS of watching my Mom cook. She wasn't a very good teacher, but I learned a great deal from this. I remember her making scalloped potatoes, and how she sliced every potato by hand and layered them meticulously in the pan to be cooked. I don't think I've taste a better scalloped potato and imagine nothing will compare.
Artwork: My Grandpa was an Artist by trade, before computers were in the picture and he was good. He was the best Grandpa to have at 'Bring Your Grandparents to School Day'. He would take me to work with him some days, to his office in Downtown Portland. Oh, how I loved this. He would seat me at his desk with every possible medium at my disposal (colored pencils, felt-tip markers, oil pastels, chalk pastels, charcoal pencils, etc.) and I would just get to create away. For lunch he would take me a little diner down the road, Nikkie's, and I would always get a hot cocoa with whipped cream.
Flying Pie: Many Friday nights, we would gather at Flying Pie Pizzeria, with friends. There would be pitchers of beer and soda on the table and my Mom and I would always share a pizza with fresh tomato slices on top. We got to play old school video games and hang out with the 'adults'.
I'm done focusing on the things they did wrong and just want to celebrate the time they were here.
