Most people see Valentine's as a day of romance, but for me it means something else. When I was a kid, my mother would pick us up on Saturdays and take us to her parent's house for the day, that was her visitation with us pending the divorce from my father. The Saturday after my 15th birthday, we were going to celebrate at grandma & grandpa's house. Grandpa had been sick for about two years, and when he had just started showing signs of his illness he had said some things to me that were a little hurtful about my father. They were true, but I was just a scared kid with lots of responsibilities and I didn't want to admit he was right. I had to care for my three younger siblings during the week, cooking, cleaning, changing diapers...your basic mr. mom stuff.
After grandpa had said what he did, I was pretty mad at him and I can't remember why. I didn't talk to him for a while, and I stopped going out there on Saturdays. When asked why, I told my mother that grandpa said some things that had upset me. When grandma confronted him, he said he didn't remember saying any of it, and not much else became of it. A few weeks later, grandpa was starting to lose his vision and had to be helped around the house, and eventually he would black out. It turned out that he had a brain tumor, and was later diagnosed with cancer. His tumor was causing him to say things he didn't mean to say, and then forget that he said them, and he began the long battle for two years that followed. After a couple years I was told that I should forgive my grandfather for what he had said, and I, still too young to understand what a tumor and cancer was all about, finally conceded and went to see him in the hospital.
Grandpa was skinny, and I would have thought he looked sick except for the beam of light that seemed to emanate from his eyes as he gleamed a huge smile when I came into the room. I asked him if he was still mad at me, and you know grandparents and their unconditional love - he told me he never was mad at me, but asked if I had forgiven him for what he had said to me. We made up, and I had my grandfather back...and we all hoped he would get better.
He spent those two years in and out of the hospital, never quite beating the cancer...or the tumor. His health continued to fail, but it was always back and forth. We never knew what to expect, and I can remember grandma thinking the charges for small things, like disposable slippers and cotton balls were ridiculous, so she would buy them from a local medical supply to save on medical costs. My grandparents were the couple to beat all couples...they loved each other passionately and spent their vacations overseas, and sending us cassette tapes so we could hear their voices. Grandpa was a retired Rear Admiral in the US Navy, then worked for the US Government for 20 years and retired from there too. I always did my science fair projects on the Hawker-Siddeley Harrier, a project with the government that grandpa worked on. They were the jets that would eventually be used by our US Marines; capable of vertical/short take off/landing (VSTOL) and hardly anyone knew about them so all were fascinated with their abilities. They lived in England for five years at a time, twice, while he worked for the government, and grandma loved her garden there, and they both enjoyed their love of birds, members of the Audobon society. Interestingly enough, I would end up owning a bird as a pet, and have had Rocky now for almost 16 years.
I remember grandpa showing off to us kids at his brother-in-law’s home in Annapolis, Md., just off the Chesapeake Bay. He was showing us how he could ride a bicycle backwards; he lasted a few feet, then fell over and cut his elbow on the pavement. I remember him laughing as he took a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe up the blood, how he seemed so invulnerable to pain or injury. When we went back to the house to clean up his wound, grandma lectured him about "showing off to the boys" again, and he just laughed. Nothing could take that laugh away from him or the smile that he always gave me when I saw him.
That Saturday in 1976, my mother picked us up and told me that we would have my party at Grandma's house, and that Saturday was Valentine's day. When we pulled up to the house, there were lots of cars parked out front and I remember thinking to myself how kewl it was that I was going to have a big birthday party with so many people. When we got out of the car, I rushed into the house to see who came for my party, and there were lots of older people, and older faces, that I didn't recognize. Then I noticed grandma sitting on the couch and she was crying, so I asked her what was wrong but she just asked for my mother. When my mother walked in, I guess she knew, and I would soon find out that grandpa had lost his 2-year battle with cancer that morning. Since then, I rarely ever celebrate my birthday, and I have a very hard time thinking about anyone other than grandpa, a man who was taken from us...from me... before I was old enough to appreciate him for the man he was. I often feel guilty for being mad at him when he was sick, nobody had ever died in my life before him and I never thought he would be taken from me before I got to know him better, as a young man.
My grandmother loved him so much, and she stayed in that house until about 1993 when she fell and broke her hip. She knew then that she had to find someplace to live where she wasn't alone. She never remarried, I think, because her heart still belonged to grandpa. She passed away a couple years ago, just shy of her 96th birthday, coincidentally, right after Thanksgiving. They were an amazing couple, and I miss them separately - as well as together.
Years later, I wrote this about grandpa:
I Remember... ...you taught me about jets, they were my science project that year.
...you taught me about cars, how they'd coast without being in gear.
...you tried to ride a bike sitting backwards, you skinned your arm.
...you taught me about automatic milking machines on that dairy farm.
...visiting you on weekends, I felt I was the reason you smiled a lot.
...some of the funnier things you said, that you claimed you forgot.
...the riding mower you purchased, how I'd help you mow the lawn.
...I grew up scared, but when I was with you all my fears were gone.
...seeing interesting things that without you I may have never seen.
...when I was 13 you became ill, you said things you didn't mean.
...that I was hurt by what you said to me, for months I stayed away.
...you had cancer, and a tumor, and they were counting down the day.
...you forgave me when I visited you, you said that you weren't mad.
...how you looked so pale and thin, you lost all the weight you had.
...visiting Grandma on Valentine's Day, that morning you had died.
...going to the funeral, I couldn't move so I sat there and I cried.
...missing you because I hadn't seen you in so many lonely years.
...I dreamt I saw you, I asked where you were and I woke up in tears.
...what you look like Grandpa, because I've got a lot of your genes.
...a lot of things about you, and I remember what unconditional means.
I found this picture of him one day a few years before grandma moved out of the house, and it really moved me. Although the bird grandpa is holding isn't a cockatoo, like Rocky, it was very significant to me that the only picture I could find of him holding a bird was with a white bird...like Rocky.
Charles "Dean" Smith
