Growing up I only knew two of my grandparents. My moms’ mom, grandmother Bennett and my fathers grandfather, who we called gramp. Grampa Lester is what my mom called him when she was upset or annoyed with him, like using my middle name when I was in trouble. During that time I wasn’t really aware that he was actually my great grandfather. I think kids don’t pay much attention to the whole genealogy thing. At least, in my family we didn’t. I had cousins everywhere, went to school with them and many I never knew! It definitely wasn’t a hallmark movie in that regard. In-laws and outlaws and those we just ignored for unknown reasons.
I was thinking about that as I have a number of things that belonged to my great grandfather. I am constantly reminded of him and that’s a good thing. I remember him well and how I admired his ability to just say whatever he thought. What I mean is, to my father, to other “grown ups” and they never said anything back. Those grown ups would just nod there head and agree or whatever and often walk away mumbling something but never confronting him. I remember how he sat in his chair, usually chewing on the end of a cigar, he rarely lit them, and pontificated on everything. He had all the answers.
He was a bit stern with us kids but not overly so. What I mean is, he would yell at you if you began to annoy him in any way. He carried a cane and would threatened to “cane” you if you didn’t behave. At least on one occasion I remember him hooking my leg with that cane and causing me to fall. I didn’t run in his house anymore after that, lesson learned. But he would also carefully peel an apple with this pocketknife, sprinkle it with sugar and give you pieces of that. He genuinely enjoyed having us kids around, mostly just my sister and I.
I was remembering all of that when I came across a picture that was taken this past Christmas. I was at my sons’ house, with my grandson and his daughter. I am the great grandfather now! I do not have a photograph of myself with my great grandfather. I do have pictures of him when he was a bit younger than I remember, but see him in my minds eye vividly. My great granddaughter will certainly have pictures of us together but will she remember? Well, that all depends upon how long I’m around I suppose. Gramp lived to be ninety and I was sixteen when he passed.
So, I’m looking at this picture and thinking about being a great grandfather. It doesn’t seem real in a way, how could this have happened this quickly? I’m a great grandfather? I don’t get to just say whatever I like however, I get “feedback” all the time. I figure it has to be because I’m just not that old. I’m not old enough to warrant that. I’m taking that as a good thing though, I’m worth arguing with anyway. I’m a great grandfather but not that old. I’m holding out hope that the day will come when they will all just listen and have nothing more to say back to me. At that point I will know that they have learned the truth. It’s always best to listen to your elders, especially great grandfathers. It does take a while to become great!
With my great granddaughter Elliotte. A little young for apple slices just yet, but it won’t be long.
An aging man living in a confusing world. I was born and raised in East Hampton, yes “the Hamptons” but not rich, not famous and definitely not woke. These are my thoughts, my memories and my opinions. Just the stuff of the regular Joe.
Growing up I only knew two of my grandparents. My moms’ mom, grandmother Bennett and my fathers grandfather, who we called gramp. Grampa Lester is what my mom called him when she was upset or annoyed with him, like using my middle name when I was in trouble. During that time I wasn’t really aware that he was actually my great grandfather. I think kids don’t pay much attention to the whole genealogy thing. At least, in my family we didn’t. I had cousins everywhere, went to school with them and many I never knew! It definitely wasn’t a hallmark movie in that regard. In-laws and outlaws and those we just ignored for unknown reasons.
I was thinking about that as I have a number of things that belonged to my great grandfather. I am constantly reminded of him and that’s a good thing. I remember him well and how I admired his ability to just say whatever he thought. What I mean is, to my father, to other “grown ups” and they never said anything back. Those grown ups would just nod there head and agree or whatever and often walk away mumbling something but never confronting him. I remember how he sat in his chair, usually chewing on the end of a cigar, he rarely lit them, and pontificated on everything. He had all the answers.
He was a bit stern with us kids but not overly so. What I mean is, he would yell at you if you began to annoy him in any way. He carried a cane and would threatened to “cane” you if you didn’t behave. At least on one occasion I remember him hooking my leg with that cane and causing me to fall. I didn’t run in his house anymore after that, lesson learned. But he would also carefully peel an apple with this pocketknife, sprinkle it with sugar and give you pieces of that. He genuinely enjoyed having us kids around, mostly just my sister and I.
I was remembering all of that when I came across a picture that was taken this past Christmas. I was at my sons’ house, with my grandson and his daughter. I am the great grandfather now! I do not have a photograph of myself with my great grandfather. I do have pictures of him when he was a bit younger than I remember, but see him in my minds eye vividly. My great granddaughter will certainly have pictures of us together but will she remember? Well, that all depends upon how long I’m around I suppose. Gramp lived to be ninety and I was sixteen when he passed.
So, I’m looking at this picture and thinking about being a great grandfather. It doesn’t seem real in a way, how could this have happened this quickly? I’m a great grandfather? I don’t get to just say whatever I like however, I get “feedback” all the time. I figure it has to be because I’m just not that old. I’m not old enough to warrant that. I’m taking that as a good thing though, I’m worth arguing with anyway. I’m a great grandfather but not that old. I’m holding out hope that the day will come when they will all just listen and have nothing more to say back to me. At that point I will know that they have learned the truth. It’s always best to listen to your elders, especially great grandfathers. It does take a while to become great!
With my great granddaughter Elliotte. A little young for apple slices just yet, but it won’t be long.
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Growing up I only knew two of my grandparents. My moms’ mom, grandmother Bennett and my fathers grandfather, who we called gramp. Grampa Lester is what my mom called him when she was upset or annoyed with him, like using my middle name when I was in trouble. During that time I wasn’t really aware that he was actually my great grandfather. I think kids don’t pay much attention to the whole genealogy thing. At least, in my family we didn’t. I had cousins everywhere, went to school with them and many I never knew! It definitely wasn’t a hallmark movie in that regard. In-laws and outlaws and those we just ignored for unknown reasons.
I was thinking about that as I have a number of things that belonged to my great grandfather. I am constantly reminded of him and that’s a good thing. I remember him well and how I admired his ability to just say whatever he thought. What I mean is, to my father, to other “grown ups” and they never said anything back. Those grown ups would just nod there head and agree or whatever and often walk away mumbling something but never confronting him. I remember how he sat in his chair, usually chewing on the end of a cigar, he rarely lit them, and pontificated on everything. He had all the answers.
He was a bit stern with us kids but not overly so. What I mean is, he would yell at you if you began to annoy him in any way. He carried a cane and would threatened to “cane” you if you didn’t behave. At least on one occasion I remember him hooking my leg with that cane and causing me to fall. I didn’t run in his house anymore after that, lesson learned. But he would also carefully peel an apple with this pocketknife, sprinkle it with sugar and give you pieces of that. He genuinely enjoyed having us kids around, mostly just my sister and I.
I was remembering all of that when I came across a picture that was taken this past Christmas. I was at my sons’ house, with my grandson and his daughter. I am the great grandfather now! I do not have a photograph of myself with my great grandfather. I do have pictures of him when he was a bit younger than I remember, but see him in my minds eye vividly. My great granddaughter will certainly have pictures of us together but will she remember? Well, that all depends upon how long I’m around I suppose. Gramp lived to be ninety and I was sixteen when he passed.
So, I’m looking at this picture and thinking about being a great grandfather. It doesn’t seem real in a way, how could this have happened this quickly? I’m a great grandfather? I don’t get to just say whatever I like however, I get “feedback” all the time. I figure it has to be because I’m just not that old. I’m not old enough to warrant that. I’m taking that as a good thing though, I’m worth arguing with anyway. I’m a great grandfather but not that old. I’m holding out hope that the day will come when they will all just listen and have nothing more to say back to me. At that point I will know that they have learned the truth. It’s always best to listen to your elders, especially great grandfathers. It does take a while to become great!
With my great granddaughter Elliotte. A little young for apple slices just yet, but it won’t be long.
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