Mom, don't read this at work. . .

I recently had a scan fest with my scanner involving pictures from both of my grandmothers' collections and I was about to gear up for a very fun wedding dress related post in honor of my cousin Katie's wedding this weekend. However, I found myself instead thinking about my late grandfather, Harold, my mom's dad, who died around this time in 2006. I remember reading letters to the editor in Newsweek magazine a few years ago in response to an article about grief and the various ways people deal with it. One man wrote something about how his wife had died of cancer several years before, and he often felt like he was the only one who still missed her. It was so sad. Well, no one is going to forget any relative of mine! So I am writing this post in memory of my grandpa so my family can have a moment of reflection and those of you who never met him can get an idea of what he was like.

When he died it was new territory for me. I was 23 years old and no one except for my great grandparents and a few great aunts and uncles had died. (I know I'm really fortunate that I knew all four of my grandparents and they were around until I was 23.) It was kind of a relief, as sad as that sounds, because he had faded into oblivion over the two preceding years as Alzheimers took over. Seriously, he was completely out of it and had no idea who anyone was or where he was. He spent his final year in a Alzheimers ward that had a TV playing Laurence Welk reruns on a constant loop with a neigbor who enjoyed laying on the floor of his room and a bunch of other nutjobs in the same situation. The last time I visited him was on Thanksgiving and he seemed completely confused by the room full of people that surrounded him. It really is a tragic way to end but at least they don't seem to know what is going on anyway. He started acting wierd at my sister's high school graduation party in 2003 and it escalated pretty fast into crazy behavior such as yelling at the mirror, swearing at my grandma (unheard of when he was still in his right mind) and going into the kitchen at night and messing with food. Some of the things he did were so outlandish we would laugh hysterically for lack of a better reaction.

This is what he was really like and how we remember him. . .

This picture is a good portrayal of how he was during my childhood. He was a teacher and coach of several sports for 36 years with Red Lake Falls being the longest and final place. He was the athletic director and taught social studies and government. RLF attire was a wardrobe staple for him and e always wore his winter hats that way!


I don't know much about his childhood in Duluth, MN, and my grandma didn't have any pictures. He was the 2nd youngest of 6. He was nicknamed "Subby" (not sure why) and when his neices told thier father, his brother Eugene (who was too old to travel at the time) about Harold dying they said he looked sad, shook his head, and said "Subby. . ." He went to a big high school in Duluth and was on the basketball team and there is a picture of him in action in his high school yearbook. I'm not sure if the photo above is from high school or college.

I love this photo and I wonder who took it! loved to be outdoors and was a lifeguard during the summer in Red Lake Falls when the river that ran through the town had a swimming beach. My mom remembers him leaping through the water and snatching little kids caught in the current with his long gangly arms. On the last day the beach was open he would pile as many kids as would fit into their station wagon and drive them home so they could stay as long as they wanted.

This photo is either a graduation photo or a high school yearbook photo. He looks kind of like my brother! Well, a dark eyed, straight haired version anyway!

He was involved with my mom and her siblings and didn't hesitate to help with babies or change diapers. (This was quite enlightened behavior for the times, I'm told!) He also used to iron his own clothes (I don't even to that!) I think that baby is my uncle Steve, the oldest kid.

This is my grandparents' wedding day on July 3, 1954. They look like they had endless possibilities!

As I mentioned, he loved outdoor activities and when my mom was growing up they camped all the time in the summer. It looks like they had some good food for a camping trip! Unless this is a picture of a picnic. . .I love Phyllis's kerchieff (so retro!) and how the person in the corner is smoking at the table! This picture could be in a vintage Coleman advertisement!

This is one hilarious family picture. Why isn't anyone looking? Harold looks kind of exhasperated with the famly!

Grandpa and "Phyllis Ann" (he would always address cards to my grandma to "Phyllis Ann" instead of just "Phyllis"!)

Aww, look who it is! It's me, his first (and favorite!) grandchild. . .I'm told he could spend hours doing childish things to entertain me and had endless tolerance for reading me Little Golden Books. There was this stupid one about barnyard animals and I would always slam it shut when the page about horses came along (don't ask me why. I don't have anything against horses!) and he would repeat the book over and over and laugh each time I slammed it shut. I'm sure this only encouraged my behavior.

This was taken at my cousin Sam's baptism and by the looks of our country looking flowered dresses, it was sometime in the mid 90's (YUCK!). One more baby came after him, and it's a shame that those three youngest didn't get to know Grandpa the way we older kids did.

A few more things that don't have a corresponding picture. . .

This one really gets to me. . .Grandpa always loved dogs (and dogs loved him!). The family always had a dog and I remember a sheltie mutt named Kipi and a different variety of sheltie mutt named Maggie. When my family first moved to our farm we adopted a dog from the Humane Society. I still am annoyed that my family went to get a dog without me! (I think I was at a birthday party or maybe school). Cleo was a yellow lab that was timid and scared (thats why they picked her!). She had clearly come from an abusive home and was terrified of men and protective of my mom and us kids. I don't want to know what she saw in her previous life. A strange man (probably an insurance man) came to the yard once and Cleo ran circles around my mom and little Pete while barking frantically as though she were trying to protect them. She eventually became accustomed to my dad and other familiar men but it took time. However, there was one man who she was never afraid of. The first time my grandparents visited after she came to our house Grandpa set up a lawn chair and sat down in front of the house with Maggie on a leash. Cleo went to his side without hesitation. I am fascinated by animals' instincts and what she was sensing at that moment.

The last thing I will add was that in the days after Grandpa died, the obituary guestbook was filled with condolences from former students with fond memories. This will sound kind of idealistic, but these accounts are from people outside the family so I guess there is something to them. What stands out to me is the accounts of strictness but also fairness and kindness and how students from rough families or poor families who weren't always taken seriously or given a chance were treated the same as the others (even the over achieving daughter Cynthia!). I have encountered several teachers and coaches who could not overcome that challenge (and it is a challenge. . .I even faced myself when I used to work with young children.)

Sorry, that got out of control and hopefully it wasn't too sickening for non-relatives. It's hard to reign in your thoughts when they are from the heart, I guess! Stay tuned for a more universally appealing wedding dress post soon!