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Many fathers are into sports and in turn, push their sons into sports. My grandfather was into airplanes and his son, my father, was led into airplanes. Although he worked on airplanes all his life, I don’t think airplanes were ever one of his passions. Reading and watching science fiction were, which I picked up on my own, and scuba diving, which I was thrust into.
There was a lady I worked for that once said, “I wouldn’t want to speak ill of someone while they are not here to defend themselves.” The sentiment was very touching and profound to me… until a few minutes later when I recalled all the times she had talked bad about other people behind their backs. It was her stock and trade.
A few years after my Nana passed away, my grandpa started to get nostalgic. My grandpa, who we always called “Pope”, used to live in California and would talk about wanting to see the ocean again, and maybe dip his toes in the water.
Originally, Dash and I planned on being in Costa Rica for a bit longer, but my favorite cousin’s wife sent an invite on Facebook to his surprise birthday party in Colorado for the New Year. I had not seen him in person in twenty years, so I begged Delilah, who was in Texas finishing up her gig on the 1883 show, and we decided to go for it.
Long ago, when I was in my teens and still living with my parents, I was hanging out with some friends who later dropped me off at my house. When I came to the door I realized I had misplaced my keys and no one was home.
My grandpa loves bacon. However, recently he had an ulcer and the doctors gave us a list of foods for him to avoid. Which included bacon. Every day at breakfast, he would look at his plate, look up at us, and ask, “Bacon?”
I skipped the last two weeks of blog posts thinking that the only real thing that captures my mind is not the beautiful surroundings of Costa Rica but the antics of my dysfunctional grandparents. Every morning my grandpa will ask me if I am finished with my book yet (I have given up explaining that it’s a blog). One morning he told me I should write about my time with the elderly.
We had a late Thanksgiving this year, as we were waiting on my mom and aunt Lisa to come to Costa Rica. I am so used to all the work I would do before Black Friday that on Thanksgiving Day I had to be reminded and when we celebrated Thanksgiving last Sunday it just felt like a big meal. I would never have realized how much work tied into making the holidays seem special to me, but there it is.
My cousin is devoted to her work. She does a great job and has risen through the ranks pretty quickly. Recently, she was given a promotion and pay raise. It’s easy to be proud of her, but to me, it was like looking in a mirror at all the reasons I quit my job. I see how hard she works from the morning late into the night. It consumes her.
Earlier today my Grandpa was telling me that he made it to 93. When I asked him what year he was born he told me, “1930. Why, what year are we in?” After telling him we were in 2021, he was frustrated and said people were always taking years away from him. I told him that with the Lunar year the Chinese would start with 1 when you were born, so that would get him to at least 92.