Telling the Truth

connecting the dots of my life

Tag: Relationships

My California Grandpa

My California Grandpa, Parents and Me - Dec 1944 - I'm 1 year old.

My Parents, and My CA Grandpa holding Me, Christmas 1944.  I’m 1 year old.

The Christmas Present got me thinking about Grandpa–my mother’s father.  Here’s what I’ve concluded:  In my list of influential men in my life, especially my childhood, my California Grandpa would stand at the top of the ‘good guys’ list!

A few months ago I found out he was a child of divorce.  I would never have dreamed this about him.  I knew  from way back that his wife, my Grandma Z, abandoned him and his two children (my mother and her younger brother), and filed for divorce.  Back then I saw her as the villain, and Grandpa as the innocent victim.  As an adult, I know it takes two to make a relationship work.  That means there’s probably a lot more I don’t know about Grandpa.

Still, if I put him side by side with my father and other men I encountered as a child, Grandpa wins first prize for positive influence.  He was a bright spot in a sometimes scary childhood.  He was like a kid himself.   He knew what kids wanted and needed, and he knew how to get right down there with them.  In my memory, he’s the one person who most encouraged me to be myself as a child.  Just the way I was.

When I married, Grandpa ‘gave me away’ to my future (now present!) husband.  My father officiated at our double wedding with Sister #2 and her beloved.  So we had ‘giving away’ stand-ins.  I got Grandpa!  In our wedding pictures he looks like a short, mischievous elf.  Proud, happy, honored and thrilled to walk me down the aisle.  I was equally thrilled to have him playing that role.

I sometimes wonder what my childhood might have been without his presence, his cards and his letters.  I know from my mother that he wasn’t happy about her marriage to my father.  But he never let on to any of us, and never asked for reports on how things were going.  He just kept showing up in person, going with us on adventures to the zoo and the park, and writing Grandpa love-letters to his little women.

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 16 December 2014

Dear Mom, It’s Christmas!

Conservatory at Longwood Gardens, Christmas 2005

Conservatory at Longwood Gardens, Christmas 2005

 

Conservatory at Longwood Gardens, Christmas 2005

Conservatory at Longwood Gardens, Christmas 2005

I’ve been listening to Christmas music and thinking about you these days.  Remembering what it was like to sing together as a family during the Christmas season, with you at the piano leading us.  We stood behind you, looking over your shoulder or singing from memory Read the rest of this entry »

The Christmas Present

This story is from a book I wrote in the 1990s.  It’s my most vivid childhood memory of Christmas.

I couldn’t forget the look on my mother’s face when I opened my Christmas present from my grandfather.  I was about 12 years old.  My mother’s father lived in California; we now lived in Georgia.  Gifts and letters had replaced lively visits to his apartment.  Read the rest of this entry »

Ritual of Remembrance

~ ~ ~ King’s College Choir, Cambridge, U.K.

It’s Christmas Eve, 1998.  I’m sitting in a chair in our living room, facing our stereo speakers.  Tears stream down my face.  I’m listening to the annual live broadcast Read the rest of this entry »

Why Look Back?

Isn’t it time to get on with it?  Let the past be the past?  I understand these questions.  I know the feeling.  If I open up that can of worms it will devour me!  And cause anguish to other people.

Henri Nouwen opens the first section of his small book, The Living Reminder, with this story about Elie Wiesel. Read the rest of this entry »

What can I say? – Part 1 | Dear Diane

This is the last piece Diane wrote for her friends about ALS.  I’ll respond next Friday.  It’s a longer piece, definitely tough reading.  Partly because it’s about her; mostly because it’s about us. Read the rest of this entry »

We’re Number One

Even though I’m the oldest of four daughters, destined to be Number One whether I like it or not, I have to confess:  I like being Number One!  I like being the Boss!  At least most of the time.

My husband is the Number Two child in his family. Read the rest of this entry »

Speaking and Writing Truth

It’s summer, 2012.
I’m speaking in public
about things I’ve never described
to a live audience. Read the rest of this entry »

Commodified Females and The Boss

It’s out there.  I published it.  Why am I feeling so much more exposed now than I did when I wrote about my father?  Or even the Shopkeeper? Read the rest of this entry »

My First Boss | Part 2 of 2

There’s more than meets the eye in my new work setting.  Though I’m a newcomer, the Boss already has a Miss Renich game he’s determined to play.  I’m an unwilling target and participant.

What’s the name of his game?
Any of the following will do: Read the rest of this entry »