My Grandfather Henry

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Everyone has someone they look up to, a role model of sorts, someone who smells of elegance, walks with strength, talks little but says so much you never forget, like my dear grandfather Henry C. the 1st.

I remember when I was very small, probably about my fourth year of life, a memory of my grandfather, as he was fixing a swing set in my Aunts backyard. The swing set was a family favorite and my Aunt had been harping at him to repair it for days before this picnic was to take place there. He grumbled as he reached for and took his tools out from the leathery pouch they had been kept neatly in. One by one he tried to find the right wrench to fit the bolt he was preparing to use for fixing the swing seat. He appeared so intense at his work, at first, his body tensely focused on the task at hand, not wanting to be disturbed at that point, as I figured it, slowly moving up around him I eagerly inched my way closer to his side, to watch and be involved. He turned and smiled at me as if to say, it’s ok to watch me. I loved to be around him and as I hung out that day watching him work life seemed to be all that it should be, a time stamped in my mind, as if it stood still. If there were ever a moment of great happiness in my life that was surely one of them.
His clothes were of a tradesman, dark brown, with striped shades of a lighter tan color that made them appear almost dressy. His shirt was worn fabric, pilled and wool like, even though it was warm and springtime season outside, when most people were wearing a short sleeve shirt or t-. He always seemed be a little overdressed for the warmer weather as I can remember, perhaps that is, due to his age at the time, and various health challenges he might have had. I see that now in the elderly, realizing that my memory of him is only of his aged days. Granddad did lots of tinkering. He worked in a Mill. He had been there for over 40 years and had earned the Gold watch. That was something he carried all the time. It was a token of service during that time from his employer. He had told me this story one day when I was with him, bursting with pride, so happy to be one of the few to have received this honorable award. He was a tall thin man, easily liked by most, always lending a hand, helping the neighbor, doing his best to be a gentleman, and a fine human being. That is something to really ponder over today. We have so much to grab our attention unlike these golden days gone by. Granddad had lived it all, had seen so much in the great depression, times of hardship, a lack of many fine things, and now in his last years he had come to a peaceful point where he could enjoy a family day and be useful all around the house. He had earned his retirement time.
He showed me such a tender heart of man. As I recall the way he treated his wife, my grandmother, serving her breakfast in bed on many occasions, and this warm day was no exception. They were there at my aunt’s house to celebrate her birthday and he had been boasting over how he had treated her as his queen for the day since she rose out of bed. She was sitting in her usual chair at my aunts house, everyone had their chair there, in this big oversized home on the hill. It smelled of things cooking and warm friendly times together we had all experienced so many so often already in my measly short years. My grandmother looked so old to me, yet as I recall it, I did not think that my grandfather was quite that old yet. It must have been his grand stand strength I felt that made him immortal.

As his trembling hands inched at the hardware on the swing, he caught a sliver in his finger and let out a faint sound of pain, “ouch” and flung his hand up towards the sky. He turned and looked at me and said, “No mind child, just a pesky sliver, I’ll get it out with a pin in a flash here and be back to work with us.” I smiled at him and ran to get the pin off my Aunt, who was busy turning the chicken frying up in a pan on the stove. “We have lots of goodies, Susan, she smiled out and remarked to me, as I told her of Granddads plight with the sliver.” She hurried out onto the porch and I could hear their friendly bickering as he tried to take care of the sliver himself and she kept insisting on being his caretaker for the task.
Along came Grandma too crying out nervously,” What’s the matter Ruth, is anything the matter Ruth?” I thought to myself, poor grandfather, he had hoped to get a job done and now was faced with calming down two of his favored ladies trying to get their job done, to tend to the men of the house. Oh what a time this was then, when life seemed to be so pure and problems seem to be all so fixable.

Had I known then I would never see my Granddad alive again, I think I would have hugged him to bits and told him how great it felt to be his little helper that day and any day.