Hefe's got an 18 car garage
Oct. 27th, 2003 03:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
twicketfaceI had a good weekend. Really good. I saw three mediocre movies, labeled a lot of photos, figured out how to upload said photos and get them to appear here, burned some CDs, ran some errands, went to the library and watched a lot of Simpsons (on tape). But the best part of my weekend happened on Saturday.
My grandparents (on my mom's side) live about 10 minutes away from us and are both in their early 80s. All of their kids (my mom and my aunts, now that my uncle has passed away) make a regular effort to visit them. It must be weird to spend so much of your life taking care of your kids and then needing to turn around and take care of your parents (and your grandchildren too). In any event, Marie and I try to make it over to visit once a month. This charges them up for a few weeks. My grandparents aren't shut-ins, but they rarely leave the house in the winter time. My grandfather has always worked with his hands (as a welder) and it is tough for him to just 'sit'. Hence, we visit to help pass the time and get caught up on the family.
I called them last week to see if they needed help with raking their leaves (they have a yard similar in size to ours). I made plans to be there Saturday morning and visited with them both before getting to work. Our plan was for me to rake from the house to the boulevard and he would rake from the boulevard to the street (as the city comes by to pick up leaves a few times in the fall). This allowed him to rest while I was working but still feel like he was helping out. We took a few breaks together, sitting on a bench by his garage. We talked about the history of the trees (most he planted himself many years before), the bank across the street, a little about my brother, credit card companies, relationships, my car - whatever came up. At first, I didn't want to stop because I had other things to do. Then I realized there wasn't anything more important than being there with him.
Just before we got done, we were sitting and talking when four middle school kids came walking down the street towards us, from the church that is a few blocks down. I thought they were going door-to-door, selling candy or popcorn. As they got closer, I noticed that one of the kids was carrying something wrapped in tin foil and had on an oven mitt. They came over to us and explained that they were learning what 'service' meant and handed my grandfather a homemade card about how God loves us all and then proceeded to hand him a homemade, still warm from the oven apple pie. We both thanked the kids and he shook hands with each of them.
We went inside and told my Grandma about what happened and enjoyed a slice of pie for our hard work. The more he talked about it, the more I realized how much this touched my grandfather. I can see that getting old is difficult and leads you to think that the world is a bad place with bad people in it. We need to be reminded that good things happen because people make them happen. They put altruism ahead of competing items. They don't use excuses. They don't make meaningless gestures. They just do. And that's who I want to be. One of those that do.
This morning, out of the blue, my aunt called to see if Marie and I are planning on attending "Guys and Dolls" (the high school is putting it on and her oldest daughter is in it). We got to talking and the topic of family came up again. We talked a bit about my uncle and how a heart attack changed all of our lives. No time to make amends or to hear more stories or get to know each other. Just gone.
Maybe it's my maturing as an individual and mentally preparing myself for fatherhood (gulp). In any event, it's time to put the camcorder to good use and start saving some memories before they are gone.
On the immaturity side, I kicked Eric's ass in fantasy football this week. By, like, 30 points. He's the best team in the league (record-wise) and it's nice to get a big win. I also downloaded Oregon Trails (the 1991? version) and have been having a great time with it. Terry keeps getting dysentary, but so it goes. The icing on the cake is coming back from the dentist at lunch with a "No Cavities" report. Perhaps I should go home and go to bed, chalking up this day as perfect.
My grandparents (on my mom's side) live about 10 minutes away from us and are both in their early 80s. All of their kids (my mom and my aunts, now that my uncle has passed away) make a regular effort to visit them. It must be weird to spend so much of your life taking care of your kids and then needing to turn around and take care of your parents (and your grandchildren too). In any event, Marie and I try to make it over to visit once a month. This charges them up for a few weeks. My grandparents aren't shut-ins, but they rarely leave the house in the winter time. My grandfather has always worked with his hands (as a welder) and it is tough for him to just 'sit'. Hence, we visit to help pass the time and get caught up on the family.
I called them last week to see if they needed help with raking their leaves (they have a yard similar in size to ours). I made plans to be there Saturday morning and visited with them both before getting to work. Our plan was for me to rake from the house to the boulevard and he would rake from the boulevard to the street (as the city comes by to pick up leaves a few times in the fall). This allowed him to rest while I was working but still feel like he was helping out. We took a few breaks together, sitting on a bench by his garage. We talked about the history of the trees (most he planted himself many years before), the bank across the street, a little about my brother, credit card companies, relationships, my car - whatever came up. At first, I didn't want to stop because I had other things to do. Then I realized there wasn't anything more important than being there with him.
Just before we got done, we were sitting and talking when four middle school kids came walking down the street towards us, from the church that is a few blocks down. I thought they were going door-to-door, selling candy or popcorn. As they got closer, I noticed that one of the kids was carrying something wrapped in tin foil and had on an oven mitt. They came over to us and explained that they were learning what 'service' meant and handed my grandfather a homemade card about how God loves us all and then proceeded to hand him a homemade, still warm from the oven apple pie. We both thanked the kids and he shook hands with each of them.
We went inside and told my Grandma about what happened and enjoyed a slice of pie for our hard work. The more he talked about it, the more I realized how much this touched my grandfather. I can see that getting old is difficult and leads you to think that the world is a bad place with bad people in it. We need to be reminded that good things happen because people make them happen. They put altruism ahead of competing items. They don't use excuses. They don't make meaningless gestures. They just do. And that's who I want to be. One of those that do.
This morning, out of the blue, my aunt called to see if Marie and I are planning on attending "Guys and Dolls" (the high school is putting it on and her oldest daughter is in it). We got to talking and the topic of family came up again. We talked a bit about my uncle and how a heart attack changed all of our lives. No time to make amends or to hear more stories or get to know each other. Just gone.
Maybe it's my maturing as an individual and mentally preparing myself for fatherhood (gulp). In any event, it's time to put the camcorder to good use and start saving some memories before they are gone.
On the immaturity side, I kicked Eric's ass in fantasy football this week. By, like, 30 points. He's the best team in the league (record-wise) and it's nice to get a big win. I also downloaded Oregon Trails (the 1991? version) and have been having a great time with it. Terry keeps getting dysentary, but so it goes. The icing on the cake is coming back from the dentist at lunch with a "No Cavities" report. Perhaps I should go home and go to bed, chalking up this day as perfect.
