Geriatrics say the darndest
things! One of them we know probably knew Papa better than anyone. Last night
on a little roadtrip to Clarksville, I asked Papa’s bride of 67 years if she
knew what holiday was coming up next month in February. Though her memory and
her medicine failed her as she tried to answer so many other questions…that one
she knew. “Valentine’s Day,” she answered with confidence in her voice.
Before
I could even finish the next question, “Who is your Valentine?” she blurted,
“Papa.”
Now
before you get all warm and fuzzy, I should tell you her response to my next
little inquisition. “Granny, how did you know that Papa was the one you wanted
to marry?”
Her
eyes got as big as the washers in Papa’s homemade yard game as she exclaimed,
“I don’t know! I didn’t! That might have been a mistake!” Granny clearly
doesn’t understand the “LOL” of language today, but she sure had me “laughing
out loud” 67 years later with that one!
We
started talking about Valentine’s Day and the gifts they used to give each
other. She said he liked candy…ANY kind of candy. Perhaps that is why his
trademark reply became, “FINE AND DANDY AND SWEET AS CANDY,” whenever he was asked
how he was doing. She repeated that phrase a couple times, and then she ever so
seriously reported that she believes he ate an awful lot of it.
“So,
he had quite a sweet tooth, huh, Granny? Did he ever sneak any sweets?”
“Yes!
Pecan Pie!”
“How
did you know?”
“Because
pieces would be missing!” She laughed a little at that one herself. To this day, she probably doesn’t know about
the snacks he hid for himself in the garage or under the seat of the car. If
anyone here today is hungry for a peanut butter cracker or a 7-Up, I think some
of us might know where we can find one.
“Granny,
what was the BEST gift Papa ever gave you?”
“My
wedding ring, I guess.” That was when I struck geriatric conversational gold! She
could recall no detail about that wedding other than the fact that it was “just
a little simple wedding.”
That little simple wedding she mentioned soon lent itself
to a simple country life. Papa was a proud man who believed in dressing up for
company. He valued shiny shoes and even shinier cars. When left to his ordinary
days that became his ordinary months and years, though, he filled them with
simple little things.
“Granny,
what were some of the most fun things you remember you and Papa doing?”
She
couldn’t mention a fabulous vacation…there were none. No extravagant
adventures. No expensive dates on the
town. Her eyes lit up, though, as she said, ”We picnicked in the yard.”
“What
else?”
“We
worked in the garden.” From there we
recalled each tomato and potato and peanut plant. She chuckled again telling me
how he would try to dig up those peanuts with a shovel, and I think there was a
vivid picture memory in her mind as she did….probably of her staring out the
back kitchen window at him and laughing at his attempts.
“What’s the secret to staying married for 67 years?”
“I don’t know. Just lucky I guess. We spent a lot of time
together.”
“Did Papa ever do anything to make you mad?”
“Why yes!”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember that now.” Hmmm…perhaps that is the secret she couldn’t
seem to recall.
From
every life and every lifestyle there is a bit of a legacy to be treasured. So,
as we – his daughter, his granddaughters, his family, his friends, his
neighbors – say goodbye to Dad…Papa….Shep….I say we do the things that he never
did in his life. Let’s travel the world, take vacations, and go on adventures.
Let’s treat ourselves on occasion to exquisite experiences just because we can.
But…along
the way, let’s have a picnic in the yard, eat strawberry ice cream, and drink
7-Up. Let’s pitch washers with the family on a summer afternoon until the plink
of the metal against the board brings the neighbors out to visit, too. Let’s
compete with ourselves to outdo last year’s garden, and load up everyone we
know with a sack of peppers and tomatoes. Let’s appreciate the flowers that pop up
through the cracks of the steps by the garage. Let’s talk about our work with
pride, and keep up with the latest changes to it even years after we retire. Let’s
throw on a cap and go on afternoon drives just to stop by and see how people
are doing. Let's take a brisk walk through the neighborhood or do a few laps around the church. Let’s wash the car again…even if it is sparkling clean before we get
started. Let’s always ask how many
cylinders are in the new and fancy cars we see. Let’s meticulously paint a
swing the perfect shades of red, white, and blue. Let’s make a scarecrow for
the garden, and then steal his straw hat on occasion. Let’s hang giant, retro,
colored Christmas lights along the rails and window in December. Let’s find a
favorite color – his was red – and wear it whenever we can. Let’s sneak
something sweet when we know someone else is paying attention…just for spite. Let’s
read the paper from cover to cover and then take it across the street with a
hot meal to the mother-in-law that so willingly helped raise that daughter of
ours (that daughter that Granny currently remembers as being a loud little baby, but one
that was smart…so smart in school). And then let’s remember that all those very
simple things really could – especially for a man like Papa – add up to a whole
life of happy.
“Granny,
did Mama Gertie like Papa when you told her you wanted to marry him?”
Her
response? “Well, I think so. Mama never complained about him.” She paused and
focused on that thought longer than she does most these days. Then she
said, “Yeah…I think she liked him.”
