well, stuff. and -- happy birthday, Grandpa.
the house was indeed left to go to work today. it was something of a battle, but not as bad as it could have been. in case i have not said, i do have a doctor's appointment on the 10th -- happy birthday, miss d! -- which is fortunate a time frame as any, what with the usual holiday occurrences and other stuff.
but today, something else, mostly:
had he lived, my grandfather would have been 94 today. i miss my grandfather every day of my life, and more so, recently. i know he would have had good words for me. it is not that i do not have good and wise counsel now; i just miss my grandpa.
my grandpa was an outside man. he worked in the oil fields for all of his working life, and i did not know until several years after he died that he had turned down several promotion offers in the course of his career -- essentially because they would have chained him to a desk, and that would have just been a little death every day for him.
i have been talking about Grandpa in my classes recently, too. we've been talking about gender roles -- what are traditional gender roles, how are gender roles evolving, that kind of thing. the gender role discussion has been new for me this semester, and i've piggybacked off of it because it has worked so well for one of my colleagues. i'm fascinated with some of the responses the students come up with.
i teach a lot of high school students, so there's approximately a 15 year age difference between me and a lot of my students.
i live in a rural area now, and i did neglect (i realize as i'm writing) to ask if their mothers worked when they were small. i asked who had been their primary caretaker when they were sick as a child, and almost to a person, it had been a mother. my mother did it when she came home at night -- but not during the day, unless i was brushing the hospital door kind of ill.
unless i was that sick, my grandpa came to take care of me, and he was amazing. all the more so, looking back... he basically never stopped wearing his oilfield khakis. i think he probably wore a hard hat in the field, but when the field was next to his youngest granddaughter's bed -- his Cincinnati Reds baseball cap was ever present.
when i was in the second grade or so, i had a wicked flu. my mother stayed the first day or two, because i slept for about 36 hours straight (i don't remember this; i was told). once i was up -- but still not so well, Grandpa got in his 1972 blue Chevy truck and came on up.
i think about the feeling of security i had then, and wish i still had it. the thought of my all pink room makes me laugh now -- but the thought of my grandpa in what had to be an uncomfortable folding chair at the end of the bed does not.
his voice was a fairly deep bass: "well, hi, honey... how you feelin? brought some doughnuts if you want 'em.." i think i was too sleepy for the doughnuts, but he offered me some of "Grandpa's medicine" -- peppermints, which i was only too happy to have to go to sleep to.
funny: this afternoon after work, i went to Taco Bell. for the first time that i can remember, there were peppermints in the bag when i got it in the take out line.
i know he's keeping up with me. smile happy birthday, Grandpa -- keep that side in line...
but today, something else, mostly:
had he lived, my grandfather would have been 94 today. i miss my grandfather every day of my life, and more so, recently. i know he would have had good words for me. it is not that i do not have good and wise counsel now; i just miss my grandpa.
my grandpa was an outside man. he worked in the oil fields for all of his working life, and i did not know until several years after he died that he had turned down several promotion offers in the course of his career -- essentially because they would have chained him to a desk, and that would have just been a little death every day for him.
i have been talking about Grandpa in my classes recently, too. we've been talking about gender roles -- what are traditional gender roles, how are gender roles evolving, that kind of thing. the gender role discussion has been new for me this semester, and i've piggybacked off of it because it has worked so well for one of my colleagues. i'm fascinated with some of the responses the students come up with.
i teach a lot of high school students, so there's approximately a 15 year age difference between me and a lot of my students.
i live in a rural area now, and i did neglect (i realize as i'm writing) to ask if their mothers worked when they were small. i asked who had been their primary caretaker when they were sick as a child, and almost to a person, it had been a mother. my mother did it when she came home at night -- but not during the day, unless i was brushing the hospital door kind of ill.
unless i was that sick, my grandpa came to take care of me, and he was amazing. all the more so, looking back... he basically never stopped wearing his oilfield khakis. i think he probably wore a hard hat in the field, but when the field was next to his youngest granddaughter's bed -- his Cincinnati Reds baseball cap was ever present.
when i was in the second grade or so, i had a wicked flu. my mother stayed the first day or two, because i slept for about 36 hours straight (i don't remember this; i was told). once i was up -- but still not so well, Grandpa got in his 1972 blue Chevy truck and came on up.
i think about the feeling of security i had then, and wish i still had it. the thought of my all pink room makes me laugh now -- but the thought of my grandpa in what had to be an uncomfortable folding chair at the end of the bed does not.
his voice was a fairly deep bass: "well, hi, honey... how you feelin? brought some doughnuts if you want 'em.." i think i was too sleepy for the doughnuts, but he offered me some of "Grandpa's medicine" -- peppermints, which i was only too happy to have to go to sleep to.
funny: this afternoon after work, i went to Taco Bell. for the first time that i can remember, there were peppermints in the bag when i got it in the take out line.
i know he's keeping up with me. smile happy birthday, Grandpa -- keep that side in line...