Paw-Paw

There it was. The package from the lawyer in Minnesota.

My heart was torn. Part of me did not want to touch the thing, but the other part was eager to explore the contents and let the memories flow.

Inside were things my grandfather wanted me to have. Things he thought were important, and that would remind me of him now that he had gone on to what lies beyond this earthly life.

Oh, Paw-Paw!

He had been gone only a month, and my heart was still adjusting to his absence. Twice I had been watching TV and reached for my phone to call him to discuss whatever was happening on a favorite show, only to realize that there was no one there to answer my call.

And now this.

I took hold of the package and brought it into the dining room. I looked at it a few minutes, then gently tugged at the sealed flap to open it up. I slid the contents out and spotted a note on the lawyer’s letterhead. It listed the contents, along with a note regarding my delight with genealogy and artifacts from our family’s past.

Paw-Paw had a touch of OCD like many others in the family (including me), and he was known to be highly organized. Each item in the package was carefully enclosed in its own plastic bag with a note explaining why the artifact was important to family history.

There was a locket worn by his Mother, with pictures of her parents inside. The note included names, dates, and places important to their lives. I knew my Great-Grandmother, known to the family as “Tra-Tra.” My own Father gave her that name when he was about two years old. He could not pronounce “Grandma,” and Tra-Tra was good enough for her, so the name stuck.

There were Prayer Cards for several members of the family who had passed away over the years. I paused when I came to the cards for my parents, who had passed away about ten years ago. Dad had a lung condition, and he succumbed to it late one September, and Mom died four months later to the day when her dialysis port began to leak while she slept.

And the card for Maw-Maw, my Grandmother. Her heart had just quietly stopped beating several years ago.

I invited Paw-Paw to come live with me, but he insisted that his house was his home, and he would be fine. He invited me to visit, and visit often, but told me in his no-nonsense way that he did not want me to uproot my life in Ohio and move to Minnesota.

And visit I did. Every few months I would take some vacation time and visit my Paw-Paw. He always wanted to entertain me, and had some new activity, puzzle, or game he wanted me to try. While both of us were surprisingly good cooks, we always made time for one meal “out.” Paw-Paw would investigate local eateries and offer me his current list of places to choose from. We delighted in sampling “New Food.”

New Food was a family tradition. On New Food Days, we would select a restaurant offering cuisine we had not yet tried and go there as a group to sample their best dishes. Over the years we tried Russian Borscht, Indian Samosas, Thai Green Curry, German Schnitzel, and Czech Kolacky. Oh, and Norwegian Lutefisk. (Sorry, Norway, but that was not a winner.)

There was a pack of pictures among the treasures. Of course, they were all in order. The first one was me resting on Paw-Paw’s shoulder, looking out at the world from my safe perch. I was four days old at the time. And the rest showed our relationship over the years, including birthdays, holidays, and regular days where we played, talked, and just loved each other.

There were also some written memories and stories that he loved to tell. His favorite of all time was one Sunday morning when I was about eight months old. I did not yet have the ability to talk, but I understood a lot more than he expected. As we were getting dressed for church, he would be talking to me, telling me all about what we were doing, and why we would be wearing our selected outfits. They were the same color, blue. After he changed my diaper, explaining the entire process as he went, he took a clean white T-shirt and pulled it over my head. Then, after arranging my arms in the sleeves, he declared, “There! Now you have a clean shirt, just like Paw-Paw!”

Well, I must have been an observant child, because I saw a faded food stain on Paw-Paw’s white T-Shirt and touched it with my finger. Paw-Paw looked down and saw the spot. He laughed and said, “Uh Oh! Paw-Paw made a mess.”

I must have understood because I laughed, which got him laughing, and we were almost late for church.

Then my own memories started kicking in. When I was about 10 years old, I had three seizure-like events in the space of about four months. I was examined by several doctors and listened to my parents worried discussions. I was old enough to know what death was and started getting incredibly stressed. I did not want to worry my parents and kept most of my worry to myself. Soon after the third event, Paw-Paw invited me to spend a weekend with him. He had a spare bedroom downstairs which is where I usually slept on overnight visits, but that first night I just could not sleep with all the worry spinning in my head. It was late at night, most surely after midnight. “Zero-Dark-Thirty" as Paw-Paw would say. I quietly went upstairs, not really expecting anything, but just hoping for some sort of comfort.

And there was Paw-Paw sitting in his recliner, reading a book. He put his book down and said, “You look really deep in thought.”

I agreed, and he suggested that when you share joy, it doubles, but when you share your burdens, they are cut in half. Then he put his arm around my shoulders and said that you are never too old to sit on Paw-Paw’s lap. We piled into the recliner and sure enough, his big arms around me were the comfort I was looking for.

I told him I did not want to sleep downstairs in case I had another event, and nobody would find me until it was too late. He understood and we talked about life and death. We talked about heaven and hell, God and Satan, now and forever.

He asked me if I felt better sitting on his lap and I agreed. Then he told me that when it was my turn to move from Earth to the next place I would be greeted and comforted even better than now. But he assured me that God had a plan, and I would not go anywhere before my time. But he also said that nobody knows exactly when their time will be, so we just have to be ready. Enjoy our time here as much as possible, but just be ready to go when God calls.

And now, Paw-Paw had gotten his call. He moved on to “take his place in the pages of history.” I imagined him sitting in God’s lap, being greeted and comforted even better than that time we shared.

I rummaged through more memorabilia and came upon the last item, a plain white envelope with my name written in Paw-Paw’s handwriting.

It was not heavy, but it did contain a thin, squarish thing. It sort of felt like a computer diskette. That would make sense. Paw-Paw had an extensive career programming computers, but diskettes were replaced by portable “Thumb Drives” years ago. Paw-Paw usually kept up with technology.

Well, guessing was not getting anywhere, so I opened the envelope to see a little black book. It had a leather like cover and had been imprinted with gold lettering when it was new. The lettering was almost worn away, but I was able to make out the words “Bank of Lonsdale.”

Lonsdale was the small town Paw-Paw lived in. I had been there many times over the years, but the Bank of Lonsdale had been acquired by a larger bank more than a decade ago.

I opened the book to the first page, and discovered it represented a Passbook Savings Account, and my name was listed as the owner. The very first deposit was August 8, 32 years ago. The day of my birth. And every month thereafter, as near to the 8th of the month as possible, there was another deposit of $50.00. Month after month, year after year.

I imagined Paw-Paw walking the two blocks from his house to the bank every month without fail. Walking on warm sunny days, but also on frigid winter days. This was Minnesota, known for its winters. There must have been stormy, rainy days, too. A testament to Paw-Paw’s tenacity and determination.

The last entry in the book was just over a month ago; just a few days before he passed.

Oh, Paw-Paw!

The final balance was listed as $20,045.00. Such a gift! He was not a rich man, but he was prudent in all he did. He taught me to save and invest, and this final lesson is one that will stay with me until I get my own call to move into the pages of history.