I had just pulled into the parking lot of Grand Central Bakery to grab a Saturday morning breakfast for the family when my phone rang. It was my dad. "Hey Dad.""Hey." He pauses. "Grandpa Davis passed away this morning." We both pause letting those words settle. This is the first time I've had to hear those words. Had to deal with those words. I've been fortunate to have gone 31 years without facing the death of a family member. His passing this weekend was somewhat unexpected. His health took a dive during the week and he just couldn't recover this time.
I will deeply miss my grandpa. I will remember him for being a quiet man but present. Always in his easy chair as the grandkids tumbled around his feet in the den. I will remember him as providing well for his family. Not extravagantly or excessively (crumb cake is by no means excessive). But well. Affording opportunities for good memories. There were sleds when it snowed. Pool tables and ping pong. My Grandpa was one of those guys who was good around the house. Crafty. Always knowing how to fix things. My own dad is extremely patient, hard working, and resourceful. I think I know where he gets it from.
I remember his quick wit and trying to keep up with him and my uncles. All self-proclaimed "King of the Puns."
I will remember his love of the rodeo, his western shirts and bolo ties. He would tape rodeos and re-watch them again. And for the first time now as I type this I wonder if he ever dreamed of getting out of North Jersey and becoming a real cowboy.
I remember seeing him laugh so hard when a cousin got flubber for Christmas. Turns out that stuff makes the best fart noises. I remember his trucker hats, those polo shirts and polyester pants, and watching his belly shake when he chuckled. Velcro shoes and that comb always in his back pocket.
I remember fishing in the bay at Strathmere. And that one time we caught a small shark. He was our boat captain. Our lifeguard at the beach. Our chauffeur in the brown station wagon.
I wish I knew more about him and his life before I was born. My dad mentioned once that my Grandpa used to brew his own beer down in the basement. Maybe I get that from him.
He raised four great kids and was there for a dozen plus grandkids. My dad is extremely patient, hard working, and resourceful. I think I know where he gets it from.
It's bittersweet. Although his health was poor in the final years of his life it is never easy to say goodbye. My heat breaks for the ones who are left behind. Especially for my gramdma. I'm praying for peace and comfort in this time.
Thank you Grandpa for sharing your life with us. I love you and will miss you always.
