But I remember your wheezy laugh, sense of humor, and most of all your explosive sneezes. I remember how the house literally rattled when you sneezed. But my favorite memory of you is when I went up to the cabin when I was 15. I caught 5 little fish off of the pier; 3 minnows, a catfish and a rock bass. But when I went inside an actual boat with an actual fishing rod and lure, I couldn't catch anything to save my life. Partly because I was so terrified of what would happen if I actually caught a fish!
I wish that I could find the transcript of the interview I did with you for Mrs. Chumbley's Honors History class in high school. I remember you told the best stories about your time in the Navy. Even though you never saw combat because your boat was sent to the Coast Guard, I'm still very proud of you. Your pictures of you in your Navy uniform are so incredibly handsome, so I know I got my good looks from you and Grandma.
I love the story you told me in that interview of how you met Grandma. How she was your professor and you polished a Washington apple until it shined all through lunch to give it to her. You placed it carefully on her desk and then swiftly walked away. When Grandma asked the class who had given her such a shiny apple, you didn't move a muscle, and just kept a straight face. What you didn't know was that all your friends behind you were pointing at you and Grandma knew just who had given her that apple!
My last memory of you is one that I will cherish forever. Just before my family dropped me off for training for my Del Sol internship, we stopped to see you at your assisted living center. You were supposed to be eating dinner, but you hadn't touched your food yet. My family and my uncles pulled up chairs to the dinner table and you kept your head down. We tried to talk to you but you weren't responsive. Finally my mom said, "Grandpa, did you know Chantel is going to San Antonio?" You knew exactly where I was sitting because you looked up right at me and looked me straight in the eye. I wish I could have known what you were trying to say, but I knew you were proud of me, and that meant the world to me.
I'm very jealous of the era you lived in. Luckily you were able to escape the jaws of combat in WWII and be able to marry my grandmother at a cemetery in Los Angeles. But this was before the days where technology complicated everything. Telephones still had wires. TVs were still black and white. There weren't any computers. I feel like technology is a blessing and a curse. While I was in Utah attending your funeral I hardly used my phone or computer. And I loved it! Facebook complicates everything and makes every mistake and hardship so public. Cell phones make it impossible to have peace and quiet. And TV and movies have gotten so risque that its hard to watch anything even though it is in high definition color. Sometimes I wish I could live back in the good old days and have gotten to know you better in those simple times.
Even though you never heard me sing in life, I'm so glad that I had the opportunity to sing at your funeral. I'm not sure how into music you were since it was hard to pick songs for your funeral, but I hope you appreciated it. I know that I had help singing through the song since I could hardly choke through the hymns. I hope that I made you proud.
I love you Grandpa. I am so grateful for the gospel and that I can see you again in the next life because families can be forever. You mean so much to me.
Sincerely, your youngest granddaughter,
Chantel Ruby Laser
No comments:
Post a Comment