When we lost my grandmother eight years ago, we weren’t sure how long Grandad could go on without her. His perseverance at such an advanced age has been nothing short of amazing and inspiring. In the early part of the decade he drove out to Michigan by himself to visit family, and he even made a trip down to Framingham to visit Katie & me in our old house pre-kids. He still lives in the same house in Plattsburgh, NY, although his schedule has slowed down quite a bit in recent years. Based on what I hear from my parents, most of his days go something like this: wake up for breakfast, fall asleep in the chair reading the paper, perhaps a trip out to the shopping area for lunch, return home for another nap, sip through two Miller Genuine Drafts beginning precisely at 4pm, dinner, and then watch TV or movies well into the night. Our Christmas gift to him this year was Seasons 1 & 2 of All in the Family. He doesn’t care for the profanity, violence and nudity that infiltrates most modern movies, so we have to be selective.

Over the holidays my parents were able to get Grandad in on a couple of video chats with the kids and me (you should have seen the look of shock on his face when he witnessed this technology in action!), but it wasn’t the same as seeing each other in person. My parents like to meet up with us in the West Lebanon/Hanover, NH area now and then, so we decided it would be fun to have them bring Grandad along last Saturday. Molly immediately went to work drawing pictures to bring to him. Several times she asked me how old he is, but she had a hard time grasping the concept of NINETY-TWO. She decided she’d just refer to him as “really, really old”, and I said that was fine just so long as she didn’t tell him that.

The girls & I left the house early that morning for the 2-hour drive to NH. We pulled into the PowerHouse Mall and parked next to my parents’ car. Like many men his age, my grandfather doesn’t go very long between bathroom trips so we headed straight for the facilities at Lui Lui restaurant. He looks great for his age, but two knee replacements have greatly limited his mobility. His movement is less a pure walking motion and more a balancing act of lifting one foot straight up and teetering from side to side. Grandad has a cane that he refuses to use in public. I spent much of the day trying to convince him that no one would think less of him for relying on it.

Since we were already at the restaurant, we decided to enjoy an early lunch. Abby took a seat between my mom and Grandad and immediately began to dote on him in her patented 3 year-old way. She didn’t hesitate to lean on him when she was telling a story, and I nearly spit out my drink when she grabbed his glasses and tried them on without asking. Grandad rolled with everything like a champ, insisting that he didn’t mind a bit. And you know what? I believed him. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was savoring every moment he had with his great-grandchildren. The conversation between Grandad, Molly & Abby flowed easily, and it brought back memories of my conversations with him when I was young.

After lunch we decided to walk around the mall a bit. My parents took the girls to their favorite toy store on the second floor, so Grandad & I found an open bench and just chatted. We caught up on football (he’s a Giants fan), he asked about Katie (his exact words were “so how’s your lovely wife doing?”), and he told me a few stories that I’d heard many times before. I snapped photos of him off and on throughout the day, wanting to capture the whole experience for myself and the girls. Nothing in life is certain, and it gets even less certain at age 92.

Grandad needed a new Dartmouth hat, so we decided to make the short trek over to Hanover. Walking on Main Street with him brought back memories of when he and my grandmother would drive over each fall of my college career to take me to lunch at Molly’s Restaurant. As we approached the Co-Op, the impact of missing his nap began to show:

——————–

Grandad: Is this a college town?

Me (confused): Umm… yeah, the campus is straight ahead!

Grandad: What college?

Me (trying not to embarrass him): Oh, we’re at Dartmouth now.

Grandad (embarrassed): Oh, oh, of course… Dartmouth.

——————–

The remainder of our day together flew by. Grandad found his new hat and we enjoyed a coffee at The Dirt Cowboy Cafe. The girls continued to chat him up and shower him with random hugs. At one point Grandad turned to me and said “[My brother-in-law] is always telling me that I need to find a companion. I think all I need is your 2 girls to keep me company”. I hated to see it end, but I knew it was time to hit the road. We said our goodbyes and agreed that we would have to meet up again soon. I left him with a hug and a photo of Molly & Abby playing in our backyard. He smiled as he gazed at it, and promised that he knew just the place for it in his living room.

Several years ago during a holiday dinner at my parents’ house, I walked into the dining room when Grandad didn’t know I was there. He was sitting alone, facing the chair where my late grandmother would have been seated. I heard him say softly “I’m sorry you can’t be here, Beverly.” His tone was more guilty than sad, like he felt he wasn’t worthy of this “extra” time with his family. I can only hope time has erased that guilt, because I can’t imagine a greater gift for my kids than being able to say they got to know their great-grandfather. I like to think that late last Saturday night as Grandad placed that picture in its special spot, he smiled and said “Beverly, let me tell you about the great day I just had…”.

One the things I enjoy most about the Thanksgiving weekend, as well as spending time with the family, is the sports. There is no better time to be a sports fan than this time of the year. The NBA pre-season is in full-swing, baseball is in the heat of the playoffs, CFL teams are fighting for playoff positions, true contenders in the NFL are starting to emerge, and finally the NHL season has started.

Each night at the cottage the family gathered and watch at least one game, and Dad was glued to the set on Sunday as it was his time to worship in the house of the NFL. To borrow a phrase from my favourite hockey team, it is a passion that unites us all.

The passion that comes out is amazing, as my brother, father and grand-father all have such disparate opinions on their favourite teams, the state of the NHL, the NFL, etc.

Grampy in mid-argument explaining why the NHL was better in his days.

In fact, my brother and I battled it out once again – this time over the merits of the CFL game vs. the NFL game. Notably, he believes the CFL is the best league in the world with the NFL being an over-hyped bore-fest.

He has an argument, though I do disagree with it.

My sons are too young at this point to grasp the dynamics of professional sport, but I am looking forward to sharing these moments with them in the near future. I hope they end up being fans of the same teams that I favour, but if they end up cheering for someone else then I will relish the arguments we will have over who is the better team.

(DISCLAIMER: If my sons become fans of any of the following teams they may be disowned: Montreal Canadiens, any team from Buffalo, and the Ottawa Senators)

In fact, I keenly remember the sporting arguments my dad and I have had over the years. It started with the NFL, though I couldn’t tell you why. I loved the New York Giants, always have and always will. He was and is a fan of the 49ers.

He had Montana and I had LT and with each team competing year in and year out, at least for a while, Sundays were always a lot of fun.

The arguments never last long, and they are more in jest than anything else – but boy are they fun!

Personal Note:: I am a life long Maple Leafs fan and it is my eternal wish that they win one more Stanley Cup before I die.

My dad died Nov. 5, 2005, and, though he fought a lot of battles with cancer before succumbing to it, he lived a full life and had the chance to see and play with three of his four grandchildren Amy and I brought into this world. Until fall of 2008, my mom was doing pretty good, too. She’s in her mid 70s.

My dad, Charlie, in June 2005 celebrating Father's Day, about 5 months before he died, pictured with my mom, Mary, and Son N (left), Son Z, Daughter L.

But, last October, for the first time, I saw my mom as being old. She has high blood pressure, was taking a blood thinner –  AND taking aspirin (though she knew she shouldn’t). It’s alright, she doesn’t listen to Amy or I (often enough) so why should she listen to her doctor.

Anyway, that combination lead to a slow leak of blood from a blood vessel in her brain and she eventually suffered from loss of time judgment and other symptoms that lead to taking her to the ER one Sunday evening. She was admitted to a local hospital and was there for about five days.

Here’s an excerpt from a post I wrote:

Right now, she doesn’t seem serious, as the doctors think the blood will dissipate, and there shouldn’t be any permanent damage. But, she can’t be alone so she is staying with us for a couple weeks until the next CT scan to check things out.

But, things like that aren’t supposed to happen to my mom. Yes, my dad died nearly three years ago after a long battle with cancer. I never really saw him as old, just sick — but he never really was sick until towards the end.

So, while she is doing fine now and was by Christmas 2008, I still see her as old, set in her ways, not willing to break out of her routine to try to meet new people, etc.

It’s not a good feeling to have.

And, in recent weeks, my mother-in-law, Carolyn, 81, started showing signs of forgetting easy tasks, and getting lost driving to or from places she has driven before. (Amy’s dad died when she was 15.)

And, on Friday, Amy took her keys away.

Amy said it was the worst day of her life — and Carolyn said the same. Suffice to say, Carolyn didn’t agree with Amy’s decision (which I agree with and fully support). By Saturday, things were a bit better. Carolyn has a doc’s appointment in a couple weeks as a check up on memory medication she recently started taking. So, we’ll see how that goes and the doc’s recommendation on her driving.

Life sucks.

I understand that it’s not uncommon for the children to become the parents and the parents to have to rely on their children as they get older, but it still sucks…and it’s not easy.

I get that life isn’t easy and it’s not always fair.

As Amy and I go through the process of becoming our parents’ parents while still paying them the respect and dignity they deserve, we are keeping one very important thing in mind:

Some day, any or all of our four children will have to do the same for us. We need to remember this time so, when their time comes to be our parents, we’ll understand and make it as easy as we can on them.

Because it won’t be easy for them. We know.

-Mike