The Truth about Grandpa’s

Today would have been my Grandpa Spaid’s 112^th 109th birthday (The MomUnit can't add). I feel like I was gipped out of knowing him. He passed away while I was still too young to understand how incredible grandparents really are. I was too young to actively seek his company and listen to his stories. I was too young to know I wouldn’t have years to get to know him.

Still I knew him as only a child could know a grandparent. He was a superhero to me. I was thinking today about some of my memories of Grandpa Spaid and I. And since this is my blog, I’m gonna share them.

1. Bike rides in Albuquerque

I really don’t remember much about our time living in Albuquerque. I seemed to have blocked out most of it. I don’t recall going to school so I think I might have been too young yet. I do remember Grandma and Grandpa Spaid staying with us for a while. In kids time it seemed like they were always there in NM. My older sister had a bike that had a banana seat on it. In the afternoons, Grandpa would take turns riding my sister and I on this bike. We’d go around and around in our little cul d’sac. I’d yell, “Pedal faster.” And he’d just giggle like he was having more fun than I was. I wish we had photos of those memories.

2. Snoopy Biting His Ribs at Dinner

My grandparents had beagles. One “followed” my uncle home. The other was deposited with them from our family. I’m not sure why Happy was sent to live with them, but it probably has to do with us moving around. Happy and Snoopy kept Grandpa and Grandma Spaid “safe”. Snoopy was a character. She had her own ideas about things, and was the laziest dog I’ve ever known. Grandpa taught her to grin at you. She’d roll her lips back, wag her tail and show you her teeth. She was a fat, barrel shaped beagle that was the sweetest dog ever. She and grandpa had a special bond. He used to feed her from the table against Grandma’s wishes. Not a lot. But little bits and pieces of his food. And occasionally Snoopy would get a bit inpatient and give stand up and give Grandpa a love bit in his ribs. Turns out Grandpa was ticklish in his ribs. He’d squirm to the side and say, “Stop that Snoopy.” I loved watching the gleam in his eye and he’d laugh at that stupid dog’s antics.

3. Bananas, half and half and sugar

As a treat, or as dessert Grandpa would often have bananas with half and half and a sprinkle of sugar on the top. Looking back I think he had a sweet tooth. I remember him fixing up a bowl for me. I am not sure how old I was but they were living on Soldano in Azuza. He and I sat at the table around breakfast time. He sliced a banana into his bowl. Sliced one into mine. Poured half and half in his bowl. Then did the same in mine. Then he said to me, “Now for the good part.” and he sprinkled sugar on each of our servings. To this day I crave bananas and half and half once in a while. Oh and he’s also the one who taught me how to eat cottage cheese with sugar on it. If I were to ever eat cottage cheese, you can bet I’d put sugar on it.

4. Lawn chairs and quiet time

I have some very fond memories of finding Grandpa sitting in his backyard, or on the back deck, or in his garage with the door opened in a lawn chair just sitting—quietly. Or at least it was quiet until I showed up. I’m sure he was out there contemplating life or thinking about how much he had to do. Or he could have just been escaping us kids and Grandma for all I know. I do know I never got to ask him why he sat out in his lawn chair. I bet his answer would surprise me.

5. Avocados

Avocados are not something I like. I doubt it has to do with this next memory, but maybe. At their house on Soldano, they had a HUGE, and I mean HUGE avocado tree. (Chances are high it wasn’t nearly as big as I remember. I also remember their house being huge. And as an adult driving by it and seeing how small it was was a shock to me. ) Anyhow, each summer the avocados would get ripe. Grandpa would pick the one’s within his reach. He’d then send my sister or I up the tree of the ones on the top. I wasn’t a very graceful child, so having me climbing a tree was risky. He’d get us up there and then hand us a rake. He’d stay on the ground and “direct” us where to climb to get the next avocado.

 

6. Mowing Aunt Millie’s lawn

This memory kinda has to do with the next memory. On a regular basis, my grandpa would load up his stinky lawn mower in the back of their Pontiac station wagon and drive to my Aunt Millie’s house. It was only a couple miles away, or at least that's what it seemed to me at the time.  He'd unload the mower, tell me to go on in side, and he'd proceed to mow Aunt Millie's yard.  I remember wondering as a kid why he did it. She seemed capable enough to do it.  But as I got older I realized it wasn't about her ability to do it, it was something he wanted to do for her.  He liked being helpful that way.  Always willing to help someone out and never asked for anything in return.

 

7. The Big Turquoise station wagon.

On many of those trips to Aunt Millie's house, Grandpa would let me "drive".  They had an old turquoise Pontiac station wagon that was a beast of a car.  They had it for as long as I could remember and it became a beacon to me.  When ever we'd be going to visit them or them coming to visit us, the site of that bright blue wagon meant good things.  The Grandparents were near.  Anyhow, on our way to Aunt Millie's house one day I asked Grandpa if I could drive.  He told me I wasn't old enough to drive entirely by myself, but he'd let me "help". So I slid over (see the old Pontiac had bench seats so sliding over was easy.) and he gently put my left hand on the wheel.  He would tell me to keep it between the curb and the dashed line.  I didn't know, or realize at the time, that he "other" hand was doing the driving, but I didn't care. Grandpa trusted me eoung to let me drive.

8. Growing tomatoes and introducing me to tomato worms

Grandpa had a green thumb when it came to tomatoes.  He may have grown other things, but I only remember the tomatoes.  When we lived in Lancaster we had plants upon plants upon plants of tomatoes in the backyard.  The crop it would yield was something out of a sci-fi movie.  Huge tomatoes.  Even to this day when I smell a tomato vine I think of Grandpa. 

One day he was out putzing around his tomatoes and he yelled to me, "Come over here! I've got something special to show you."  I went over to where he was standing and he was pointing down toward a leaf.  Sitting on the leaf was the ugliest, greenest, horny-est worm I had ever seen.  It was gross.  Grandpa explained to me the tomato worm was an even critter and must be take care of whenever I found one.  I then made one vital mistake. I asked him what I should do.  His response was simple, "Kill it." "Well, how do you kill it Grandpa?"  His response was action. He grabbed that worm off that leaf, threw it to the ground and stomped on it. Lifting his foot all I saw was green goo.  Needless to say, I didn't kill any tomato worms.

9. Teaching me about 4 o’clocks

Back to the house on Soldano.  Along the fence there was a plant, vine thingy that had beautiful flowers on it.  I asked Grandpa one day while he was sitting in his law chair trying to get some peace and quiet what the plant was.

"Why, those are 4 o'clocks," he said.

"Why are they called 4 o'clocks?" I questioned.

He said, "Because every day at 4 in the afternoon they open. And when they open that's when you know its time to go inside the house and tell Grandma to start dinner."

For the rest of the summer, whenever I was outside, I'd watch for those flowers to open.  I'm not sure if he was yanking my chain about them actually only opening at 4, but I do know that it was a pretty smart way to get rid of me and send me inside to bug grandma.

I wish I had more memories of Grandpa.  He was a special man and the type of Grandpa every kid should have.  Happy 112th Birthday Grandpa. Sure wish you were here to sit with me on my lawn and just be quiet.