grandpa's 90th

What does it mean to be 90 years old?

Today I am traveling home to find out. Sans another run in with the "po po" (look for me in the granny lane puttin the hammer down at 67mph) the family is getting together at the Versailles Inn to celebrate my grandpa's 90th birthday. Since I might not be back in time for the usual Monday morning post, i thought i'd share some of my thoughts today as i get ready to help celebrate this significant event...

Grandpa is "Morning Dad's" dad : )

This is how I expect my grandpa spends most of his days...

At 90 years old you

Get up. Write down a long list of things to worry about. Go to church. Run through the list then get out there into the life you have created to do some good...or you simply stay at home and find ways to help your wife.

My grandpa never ran for a political office, did not seek leadership roles in church, did not have a great deal of involvement in civic organizations...

He was not a super caregiver, the kind you would today call the stay at home Dad...

He did not present us with those ideals.

Instead, he held tight to a larger sense of self. he gave us identities that spoke of vision and purpose…WWII soldier who fought for his country, the boy of meager means who became President of the bank.

he gave us an ideal of love that can be succinctly stated

"You don’t have to search for perfection in a partner when you know you’re already holding a rose."

you might say that my grandpa was consumed by the role of "steady provider." i like to say what better thing to be than gentle and kind and in love with your wife?

indeed his life will be most defined by the relationship he has with my grandma.

there's still a twinkle in his eye when he remembers their first date and the story of their courtship.

there's still a touch of dry wit and humor to his voice when he encourages us not to do the math between the date of my father’s birth and the date of their wedding.

today i am lucky to see the way he smiles at her and points at family gatherings “isn’t she something?"

i'm lucky to hear a 90 year old man playfully call an 88year old woman “girly.”

he always says “you’re something else girly” as he puts an arm around her shoulder and squeezes to get her to stop for a moment in the midst of clearing the dishes (yes, this could even happen today at a restaurant)

At what age do we begin to separate from the world? just a question i will be carrying around with me today. i play the role of honored family observer at
these events grandma finds me and plants me in a chair right next to her so i (she) can rest my (her) legs) : ).

so...i will push aside the meat and enjoy the potatoes and ask...

Things that were new to him…

the two car garage
computers
Taco Bell

Things that he’s seen…

too many to list.

Finally, the biggest lesson he's ever tried to teach me (I am a stubborn audience)

There's a little blue booklet on ACCEPTANCE he gave me once. he picked it up at a church when he'd been hospitalized for “nerves” (depression). The Doctor told him he was free to come and go as he pleased. My grandpa did not go to the bar. He turned
a different direction than his alcoholic father had. He went to church and says in these words found the guiding principle for his life ACCEPTANCE…

I've never met this God or Jesus that seems to talk to white men

(When white men fall it seems he lands cradled in a net. Everyone else goes SPLAT!)

but i was listening that day

I see in this the Buddhist teaching of letting go…we suffer because we cling to objects, things, money, relationships, and to the idea of this thing we call the SELF.

Only through letting go of this attachment do we the ultimate happiness called peace

the practical application of this lesson?

yeah, um i'm still working on that...huh, i guess i just want to squeeze someone and call them girly : ).

anyway, uh, thank you for your time and reading my disjointed thoughts.

happy weekend. i love my grandpa!

Amanda