My grampa never said, “I love you.” I said it to him more times than I could count, all of us did. My whole family, Mom and Dad, Sister, Grama, my uncles, my cousins, and friends, have all told him, “I love you” at some point. He never once responded in kind. The best you got was a, “you too,” but usually it was simply, “mmhhmm.”
My grampa was a strong and tough man typical of his generation I suppose, and men of his generation did not show “weakness” by crying or showing emotion, or, apparently, saying “I love you.” Just how strong and tough was he? Let me share a few of the legendary stories of my grampa. First, he was born in 1931 and grew up on a farm during the depression. There’s the story about how he fell in the pig sty and his leg got caught and trampled and twisted all the way around backwards. Now if it really went all the way around I don’t know, but it was surely out of place and had to be corrected. There’s also the story of how he was playing in the hay loft and fell on the pitchfork unknowingly and caught it on his chin so that it poked through into his mouth. There’s also the story of his high school days when he was playing on the basketball team and got so focused on dribbling the ball that he ran into the brick wall behind the basket and cracked his neck so bad it paralyzed him from the neck down. That one he did twice! The second time the chiropractor strongly suggested he give up basketball. He liked to tell us grandkids that if he hadn’t run into the wall and ruined his neck that he would have been over six feet tall. His fingers and knuckles, which were huge and swollen, always had some sort of burn or cut from all the work he did with his hands. He had both knees replaced. He watched his father pass away when he was a young boy, and then his mother when he was quite older. He also watched his two older sisters and his wife pass away. There’s no denying his strength and toughness once you realize even part of what he’s experienced in his life.
You can see why “I love you” was not an overly used phrase in his vocabulary. However, my grampa was one of the most loving men I knew. My grampa may not have said it, but he did it. My grampa was an ornery jokester and just loved to get people. My grama used to complain that she never knew if he was joking or just being mean to her. To which his response was, any time he was pulling her leg to just poke at her side and say, “joke, joke, joke.” I think what he was really saying was “love, love, love.” Ever since Grama passed a year ago he has said, “I just want to be up there with my sweety.” “I love you.”
Grampa worked in the refrigeration industry and he took his oldest son and my father out with him on jobs for many years, teaching them the ropes and the right way to do things. There are lots of stories about their misadventures and how he would get them to do things, making them think it was very important in all seriousness, yet it would turn out to be a prank and he would just grin and chuckle and poke fun at them. “I love you.”
My grampa was always ready to save the day when things didn’t go according to plan. For example, on a family road trip up north to see my other grandparents, the family van broke down. Who drove hours to get up north to where it was and help get things taken care of? My grampa did, without question. “I love you.” During my high school days, I had to walk or ride my bike to school and it was a few miles away from home. So, one day when it was raining after school, who did I call? My grampa, and even though it was dry as a bone by the time he got there, he just laughed, loaded my bike into his work truck and drove me home. “I love you.”
My grampa spent time with all of his grandchildren willingly and patiently. He always had spearmint Breathsavers and spearmint Trident gum in his shirt pocket for us, or on a really good day, a Werther’s caramel candy. “I love you.” When I was a little girl I used to bring him books and sit on his lap and read with him. Sometimes he read to me, other times I read to him, even though I couldn’t read yet. He just indulged me and listened to my made up stories to go with the pictures. “I love you.” He played on playgrounds with me. My favorite game apparently was “drive thru window.” He would come up as if he was in a car and order cheeseburgers and what not and I would fill his order and send him on his way. He would “pay” me and move on to go eat his play lunch. “I love you.” Once, on yet another family road trip, this time across country, I left a little doll of mine in a restaurant in New Mexico. Though we had gone too far to turn back for it, my grampa not only promised to buy me another when we got home to get me to stop crying, he actually did it. “I love you.” He kept all of our little drawings and stories and concert programs and little notes and pictures. Each one is a little, “I love you.”
Since my grama passed last year we’ve all been spending a lot more time with Grampa. We would go visit more often, go do the chores at the house, and just spend time with him. On one such day about a month ago, he wasn’t feeling well. When my mom and I left him so he could get some rest in bed, we each walked in and gave him a hug, told him we’d see him later, and then said, “I love you.” As my mother said this, and kissed his forehead, he said, “I love you too,” out loud.
Something told me then to prepare my heart and be strong. Long story short, this past Saturday, February 21, 2015, my grampa passed out of this life and moved on to the next.
I am not terribly sad. He was a big part of my life for my whole life. He was always there, he and my grama, and so I don’t feel I missed out on anything or left anything unsaid. He missed his wife and I am at peace and even rejoicing that they are together again. In fact, in church the Sunday after, as we were singing the opening songs I suddenly had a vision of them together. They were both young and happy. My grampa was wearing a suit similar to the one I have seen in pictures of their wedding, a white coat with black slacks, and my grama was dainty and exquisite in one of her smart 50s style dresses that was cut perfectly to fit in all the right places up top and around the waist, but then flared out from there, and they were dancing. They used to do that when they were young you know, a lot. I could see them dancing, in heaven, just happy and smiling and carefree, and in love.
No, my grampa never said I love you, but of few other things was I ever so certain. “You too, Grampa.”
For Grampa, from Number One. Norman Shroyer 10/14/1931-02/21/2015
You know I couldn't leave you without a song right? This one always reminded me of Grampa.
Norm could communicate love by just being himself. My condolences to your family.
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Mary Wakeford
2/23/2015 05:15:23 am
I wasn't expecting the ending not knowing your grandpa had died. I am very sorry for your loss.
Beautiful sentiments from a loving granddaughter.
My love to all.
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Erin Groeneveld
2/23/2015 06:24:59 am
No one could have said it better Sister! We ALWAYS knew exactly how he felt about us! Whether he was pulling your leg, which somehow I seemed to be the victim of a lot more than anyone else...I swear my left leg is a lot longer than my right...or he was letting us criss-cross the velcro straps on his shoes, he did it all with love! I will forever think of Grandpa when I see a box of Tide and if I EVER see someone feed it to a chicken I will feel justified! The best is that the photo above of the two of them laughing was staged. My Grandma was always on his case because he didn't really smile in photos and she was trying to get a picture of the two of them. So in their typical fashion (as they were two peas in a pod) they made some sort of an obnoxious silly face. Grandma yelled at them (as she usually did) and then told them to smile or laugh or something and the photo above is what you got. That was life with my Grandpa...a lot of love and laughter!
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Leslie Groeneveld, author. Yes, that's me. I hope one day to be published. I speak in movie quotes. I like to drive fast. I have an unnervingly great memory. I believe chocolate can cure anything. I know more about Disney than probably any normal person should.