In a previous part of my life, I lived in the Missouri Ozarks; an area touristically famous for the term ‘hillbilly’, describing hill folks who had pretty limited social exchanges due to the isolation of their homes. In this time, I heard a song called by the above title. The concept was that due to intermarriages, etc, the fellow singing the song was actually related to himself so many ways that he was indeed his own grandpa.
Well, that’s simply an aside to explain the title; actually, what I’d like to share is my realization that as I’ve aged, I’ve become my grandfather—and I couldn’t be happier. In some ways, my Grandpa K was a rock in my childhood. A gentle farmer, he still milked 12 or 13 cows morning and night (we’d be up at 5 am to ‘help’), kept an old work horse that he hitched to a plow, harrow, and hand-built sled that he’d drive up and down highway shoulders between our houses. He continued to tend two large gardens well into his late 80s and passed away at 92.
Among my memories of Grandpa, first is the fact that two things seemed to always be present with him: he chewed a cigar all day long! If memory serves, every day he started with a fresh cigar and by the end of the day it was gone. Second, he hummed to himself all day long as he went through his tasks…and he seemed to always be on task. So I have great memories of following him through his day, with the cigar and the music. Happily, I found his humming is a habit I’ve acquired, and I’m even more pleased to report my 13 year old grandson still carries this habit in his DNA. Humming was never something my father showed interest in pursuing. Cigars never interested me, or my dad.
And the piece I’m finally really appreciating about Grandpa is his ability to pace himself. He’d work hard, but never so hard as to totally tire himself out. Often I can remember him saying, “Let’s hoe this row, little guys; then we’ll sit in the shade for a few minutes.” From Grandpa I got the realization (which is finally bearing fruit) that it’s good to go at it, but it’s better to remember to stop and breathe. So much of who I am and who I’m becoming can be traced back to Grandpa’s influence.
These days, at 72, I’m happy to feel I’ve achieved if I remember to water all the plants, or review one chapter in the latest book, or wash the car. My goals have settled into senior year goals and I hope to keep this sense of relaxing to enjoy the tasks instead of believing I must achieve more and more.
So in some ways, I’ve become my own grandpa, and I hope I’m instilling in my grandson some of the values that old fellow shared with me. It’s great to work hard; it’s also great to breathe, relax, and bask in the glow of a small job well done.