Remembered on Father's Day

I remember both of my grandfathers.  Michael (known as Harry to his friends) was a funny Irishman, the other, Andrew, was a stoic Bohemian. Harry died too early in my life for me to get to know, and Andrew, who often said, “children should be seen and not heard,” became my friend when I was sixteen.

I had a summer job driving truck for the lumberyard in Le Center where he was living, and we often had lunch together at his house. I learned much about life that summer from a man born in 1885. The time I spent with Grandpa Kucera that summer stands out as some of the most important moments in my life, but I didn’t know it at the time.

I know it now. I am keenly aware of how important the bond is between grandfathers and grandsons. Fortunately, my daughter, Jennifer, recognizes this as well. Although I don’t ever remember wishing either of my grandfather’s well on Father’s Day in person or with a card, my grandsons gave me a card in addition to their greeting.

Micah, the two year old, told me more than once, “Happy Father’s Day Pa,” with his melodic voice stretching Pa into two syllables. Jonah, soon to be one, made some faces at me, mimicked my noises and reached for my glasses.

The card, pulled off-line from some web site, had fill-in-the blanks that my daughter read to her boys (with presumably Micah, who has a huge vocabulary, providing the word or phrase.)

The card started with, “Let me tell you about my grandfather.” Jennifer recorded Micah’s reply to “How old is Pa?” Micah thinks I’m nine years old. I can see how. Clearly I look older, but I often act much closer to his age.

Reporting on my wardrobe preferences, he apparently believes that I like to wear shoes. Doctor’s orders – a podiatrist once told me to never go barefoot, so I don’t  - even indoors (I keep an extra pair at my children’s homes).

When asked about my favorite food the answer was less certain. “He loves to eat peas – kind of.” That’s true; I can take them or leave them. Fresh in the pods or frozen are best. Canned peas should be banned.

According to Micah, my favorite sport is football. I’d rather watch hockey but if we’re going to play, I guess we’ll have to grab their mother and pick teams.

The only evidence he could provide on why he thought I was smart was “because he knows how to write some stuff.”  This is from a boy who doesn’t read the newspaper or books without pictures, but he does listen when I read my essays to his mother.

The activity listed that we like to do together is “going on the tractor and eating.” Right again, although not at the same time. Jonah is yet too young to ride on the tractor with me, but Micah thinks the tractor is for giving rides and pulling trailers. As far as eating goes, sharing bagels and eggs on a Friday morning ranks near the top of my favorite things to do.

As to what makes his grandfather happy, the answer given was “when I go to Mimi’s house.” Mimi is what Micah calls my wife, Rhonda, and he thinks the farm belongs to her. I’ll let him think it’s her house for now, but he’s right, I do like it when they come over.

His favorite thing about me is “playing and all the things.”  I can hardly improve on that, except I hope those two little boys will never forget me.