Remembering

I haven’t updated the blog in a long while because of various factors in my life as of late. Sadly, I haven’t had that many adventures as I would like, but soon that should change. I’ve also had some health issues, which all landed in me in the hospital. Such fun. Also, my grandfather died in late May and ever since I’ve been thinking about him and my grandmother who died last September. My grandparents somehow fit together. My grandfather was the one who dared you to do things that could potentially injure, maim or deform you. My grandmother was the one who told you to stop running around lest you broke a leg. But yet, with their personality differences, they still fit like a puzzle piece.

My grandfather lived with the belief that life is absurd and the quicker you learn that, the better life will be. Half the people you encounter in life, you will never see again, so why be afraid of how you are perceived? As I had previously expressed in the short story I wrote about my grandparents here, they were characters.

I remember quite well when I was a child leaving a sandwich on the kitchen counter and leaving the room for a short second only to come back to my wide-grinning grandfather eating it and looking at me as if I was a loon. “I thought you made this for me,” was he response in his nasally New York/Baltimore accent. He would steal your food even if it were sitting right in front of you. The only response I could muster was, “Grandpa!” in my own high-pitch nasally voice.

My grandfather fostered and encouraged creativity. He encouraged people to have no fear. Oh, also naps. He would fall asleep at the stop sign quite frequently while behind the wheel. When my family went to Israel, he fell asleep in the Dead Sea. Just floated away. My grandmother, in her pitchy New York accent, “Morty! Wake up! The bus is leaving! We will leave you here!” She gave up at one point and left him on some bench in one of the many cities we had visited. He eventually came back, hours later, waiting for us at the hotel.

My grandmother fostered in us education and constant learning. She tried to teach me how to play tennis and piano. I couldn’t master the basic concept of tennis and I was able to play very basic piano. She taught me how to read, how to play mahjong, how to swim and how to play pool. I started a love affair with Charlie Chaplin at age 6, religiously watched Shirley Temple movies and the love that I have for Annie knows no bounds; this is all directly correlated to my grandmother.

Because my family was always hectic (and not to say being around my grandparents wasn’t hectic) my grandparents were able to provide that one place to go and feel everything was ok. I miss them a lot, even though I hadn’t seen my grandmother for many years before she died and only a couple of months before my grandfather died—reasons that go beyond what this blog is about. I think about them constantly and realize how much they did impact my life in some form or fashion. I wouldn’t have gotten my degree if it weren’t for my grandmother telling me “education is what sets you free” and my grandfather telling me to embrace the absurd. “It provides stories for later.”