A Visit to Pop

A Visit to Pop
Marty Livingston

Jim was still shaking a bit when he knocked on his grandparent’s door. The rage that exploded at his mother was a new experience for him. He always saw himself as easy going and polite around her. Telling her that he hated her scared him. Pop had always been the closest thing he had to a father. Jim and his mother lived with her parents after Jim’s father died when he was about four. He always called his grandfather Pop the way his uncles and aunts did. He hoped that Pop would be the one person who could help him understand his anger with his mother and the deep sadness that was enveloping him for as long as he could remember.

As he waited for someone to come to the door, he replayed in his mind all the times that he came home to this very apartment. Every time he climbed the stairs to their third floor walkup his whole mood could change. It all depended on what he smelled. If he picked up the aroma of wonderful Hungarian cooking or a cake baking, then all was well. The whole family would be warm and eager to greet him. Grandma would hug him and plant wet kisses all over his face. Ug, he thought. She was so mushy, but I certainly knew how special I was to her. My mother never hugged me like that.

Those were the good days. On a bad day the smell of vinegar wafted down the stairs and Jim could recall how his whole body would tighten. Vinegar was what Grandma used on the rag she wrapped around her head when she was on the warpath. Jim chuckled. Of course what it meant was that she had a headache, but as I kid who knew? He could picture how everyone walked on eggshells when Grandma had the vinegar on.

Mostly there were good days though, he reminded himself as Grandma opened the door and gave him one of those familiar welcoming hugs. “I am so glad to be here Grandma. Now that I’m away at school, I don’t see you and Pop nearly as much as I used to.”

“I’m always happy to see you Jimmy. You are always my first grandchild. Come in and sit down at the table. I have plenty of turkey and stuffing left from our Thanksgiving meal.”

“I’m really not hungry Grandma. I had Thanksgiving dinner at Mom’s house and ate plenty.”

“Surely you have room for pie Jimmy. I baked an apple pie. Oh, and I also baked your favorite, pineapple upside down cake. You remember my upside down cake. Don’t you?”

“Grandma, how could I ever forget? You used to make a big cake for the family and a little cupcake size one just for me. Okay, I will have a little piece and we can sit at the table and visit a bit. Where’s Pop?

“He went out for a walk. He should be back soon. How do you like school?”

“I think that I’m going to be happy there Grandma. I’m on the basketball team.”

“And what about friends Jimmy? Have you made any friends?”

“Well, some of the guys on the team are nice. I enjoy practicing with them. Actually, I have been spending a lot of time with a girl that I like.”

“Oh, what’s her name?

“Jenny Grandma. Her name is Jenny.”

“And her last name?”

Jim had always had a way with Grandma that her own children didn’t. With her kids, she always had rigid ideas of how they should behave including observing Jewish law. One son had married a non-Jewish girl and she had sat shiver as if he had died. On his internal screen he could visualize how, once his mother remarried and they lived miles away they would drive over regularly for a Sabbath visit.

Driving on the Sabbath is forbidden, so they parked their car around the corner and walked to the house. Grandma always acted like she believed that they had walked all the way from Mom’s house. She never asked and Jim and his mother never actually lied. She wanted to see them and her beliefs could be compartmentalized. Jim hoped that she could do that in regard to Jenny as well, but giving her a clearly non-Jewish last name like Johnson would be pushing things.

“Grandma, I think that we had better change the topic here. Let’s just leave it that she is sweet and pretty and she makes me happy.”
Grandma’s brow wrinkled a bit, but she chose to cooperate. “And how are your classes?”

“I have one teacher I really like. His name is Mr. Rothstein.”
Grandma nodded approval as they could hear Pop coming up the stairs. Jim jumped up to meet him as he got to the door. “Hi Pop. I really need to talk to you.”

“High Jimmy. Let me come in first and settle down. Then we can go in the study and talk. Okay?”

“Sure Pop. I didn’t mean to rush you. I’m sure Grandma will want to feed you before she let’s us go.”

“That’s right. Pop hasn’t had his apple pie yet. And I have a nice hot pot of tea waiting.”

Jim took a deep breath and tried to be patient. It seemed forever until the pie and tea were gone and Pop took out a cigar. “The men will go smoke in the study now Anna,” Pop explained. Grandma smiled. “He’s got a girlfriend. He’ll probably tell you much more than he told me.”

Once in the study, Jim felt good. It had a very comfortable familiar feeling. Pop stretched out in his easy chair puffing away on a cigar. There were so many memory-stirring things around. The most familiar piece was Pop’s ashtray. It was made from a replica of a truck tire with a glass cup in the center to catch the ashes. That ashtray was always a reminder of Pop’s truck. Jim could remember driving with his grandfather in that truck and being so proud. He admired his grandfather. Pop was in business for himself. He drove his truck to the market well before sunrise six days a week. He picked up huge crates of produce and delivered them to restaurants in time for them to begin their preparations. Jim had always been in awe of how early Pop could start the day, of how he drove that big truck, and maybe most of all of how powerful he was to be able to handle those gigantic crates.

“Remember Pop? When I was little we used to roll that ashtray on the floor. Once I did it when it was full of ashes. I got scared that you would yell at me like you did at my uncles, but you just laughed.”

“I love you son. You didn’t mean to dump the ashes. You were just a kid playing. When you were little you were always exploring and searching in one way or another.”

“I remember how my uncles were all afraid to sit in your chair at the dinner table and then once I did and I could feel them tighten up as you came in.”

Yes Jimmy. I thought that you were brave and I loved it. You were a lot of fun. You also were full of questions. A lot that I couldn’t answer. You were always looking for something.”

“I don’t remember you ever not having an answer Pop, even if it was something like, ‘God doesn’t tell us all the details.’ Didn’t you ever get tired of all my, ‘Why? Why? Why? “

Pop just laughed.

“And you used to make your muscles dance for me. I have a lot of warm memories.”

“Hey Jim, what’s with all the memory? It feels as if you were saying goodbye or something.”

“I don’t know Pop. Nothing I can understand. I’m just feeling kind of nostalgic.

Actually, I’ve been feeling a lot of sadness lately.”

“Sadness? What about?”

“I don’t really know. It’s just there. Sort of like a mist hanging over me. I break out of it at times. Like when I play basketball I often have a burst of enthusiasm, or when I’m with my new girlfriend. It’s not that I’m unhappy. Life is good, especially since I met Jenny. I can’t wait for you to meet her. She’s gorgeous and sexy and smart. I can really talk to her. She reminds me a lot of Aunt Blanche when she was younger.”

“You were always your aunt’s favorite. She adored you. You know, she hasn’t been well lately. She’s kind of tight and withdrawn. She doesn’t come to visit much these days. I’m concerned about her.”

“I could go see her while I’m in the city. Do you think I could help?”

“I’m sure that she would love to see you. I don’t know about helping any. I try, but she’s tough to reach these days. She and your mother were both the apple of my eye when they were younger. They both lost husbands young and have been hard to relate to since.”

“I don’t think she would be withdrawn or tight with me. We always had an enlivening effect on each other. Maybe she’ll relax with me. I’ll go see her right after I leave here. Then I have to head back to school.”

“Speaking of Mom, that’s what I really want to talk to you about. I got so angry with her at Thanksgiving dinner. Incidentally, I wish that you came to Thanksgiving at her house. Maybe if you were there, we wouldn’t fight as much.”

“Your mother is grown up and has her own Thanksgiving. She has her new husband and family and your grandma and I are not part of that. We never were. Even when you were ten or twelve, she would bring you here to visit, but we were never invited to her house with her new family. Why, is a mystery to me. Talk about sad. I have felt sad about how she is with that family for a long time. It’s like, to some degree, I’ve lost a part of her.”

“Pop, I got so angry with her. I told her that I hated her. I yelled at her. I was shaking. I was afraid that it would destroy her.”

“Did it?”

“I don’t think so. She kind of looked back at me and something went on from her eyes to my eyes and back. Then I started crying. I really did hate her. I think that I often hate her.”

“She gets me pretty angry too. She’s my daughter and I love her, but she can be a real bitch sometimes. She has your Grandmother’s rigid sense of right and wrong sometimes.”

“She’s always telling me to be a gentleman. I’ve messed up with lots of girls by being too slow and holding back.”

“Just like your grandmother. They are both wonderful women, nurturing and loving, but they also both insist on submission too often.”

“How do you handle it Pop?”

“Well, your grandmother is not my mother. Sometimes I feel like a little kid with her, but I’m not her little kid. When she insists on my submitting to her will, I go for a walk.”

“Don’t you get angry?”

“Damn right I get angry. When I was younger I had quite a temper. Outside the house, when I lost my temper I could hurt people. Once at a card game a guy was cheating and when I called him on it he called me a liar. Boy did I tear that place up. They had to come with an ambulance for three guys. I’m not proud of it, but I’m also not ashamed of it. A man has to stand up sometimes. With a woman it’s tougher.”

“What do you do when you are angry with Grandma?”

“I’ve never hit her, but I certainly have felt like doing it at times. When she insists on following rules as she interprets them I get into a rage. My blood boils. Sometimes she backs off. When she doesn’t, I usually leave. Sometimes in that anger I’ve done some things I’m not proud of if you know what I mean. A guy’s got to do what he’s got to do if he wants to feel like a man. But I love your grandmother and when I come back from my angry walk we usually both say sorry. I know she loves me.”

“Well, I’m so angry with Mom’s telling me to be reasonable that I don’t feel much like going back to see her again.”

“Jim, you may feel differently after some time, but it could be a good thing to stay away when that’s what your gut tells you. You have to stand up and protest. You don’t want to be a gentleman in the sense of being submissive. You’ve always been too nice of a kid. It’s sweet and adorable, but I like seeing you have some muscle too.”

“I think that I’m getting more comfortable about the anger. I like seeing that you have had a temper at times too. When the anger goes away though I feel sad.”

“Hey Jim, you have lots to be sad about. You lost a lot along the way. Give it some time. Get to know it. Someday, when you get old enough to be a grandfather, you will see it differently. In the meantime, be patient with yourself. There’s a lot of sadness that you and your mom wouldn’t talk about years ago. That could be part of what you are confused about. I remember years ago trying to get you to talk about how angry you were, or to cry about your daddy. You pushed me away and told me that I wasn’t your daddy and should stop trying to bully you into letting me be.”

Jim felt a wave of sadness right at that moment. “Yeah, I know that you were more ready to be a dad to me that I could allow. I guess I was too angry to let you or anyone be in that role. I’m just beginning to appreciate you. That’s why I came running when I was so upset about hating mom.”

When Jim left, he and Pop hugged. It was very different than Grandma’s hug. It was like being held in the strong arms of a big black bear.