"Grandparents - Gifts to us the Grandchildren":

A Few Reflections

"I think both my grandparents set-up a contrast with everything else around us. When I see an old dress, a shoe or an old car, I say: ‘Oh, this is old! I don’t want it. Get it out of here. I’ll get a new one.’ But when I look at Babeeg and Dadeeg, I see just the opposite. I love them because they are old! I want to be around them because they have lived such a long life. I can’t explain why or how, but it helps me better understand a contrast in life: That which God creates, you love as it grows older. But that which mankind creates becomes useless as it becomes older and you want to replace it. I think it is sad when people cannot see or understand this difference. I know, that likely I would not have known this either if I had not seen and experienced my Grandparents."

"I baby-sit my niece. It is quite a responsibility to be with her, to feed her on time, to play with her. It is tiring, but you sort of feel good because you did something responsible. You know what I mean? Well, we don’t leave Grandpa alone anymore either. He may want to do something he cannot, and may end up falling down and hurting himself. He did that twice already. He becomes stubborn and wants to do something, but when he can’t, he gets frustrated, tries even harder and hurts himself. Taking care of him is tiring too. But it too gives me a feeling of accomplishment just like taking care of my niece. Its like I am responsible for a treasure, a piece of myself, my heritage, my life . . . After all, if it were not for him and my other grandparents, I would not be here. You know, when I take care of my niece, it is so much fun because I see all these creative possibilities in life and I dream of the person I can be and the things that I can do in the future. But when I am taking care of Grandpa, its different. Instead of all those creative possibilities about the future, something, a voice in me tells me: ‘You can do it, you can get there! Look at Grandpa and how much he did. Still, he is trying hard, and God is helping him.’ I tell myself: ‘Don’t let go of your dreams! Don’t give up! Ask God and He’ll help you get there!!!’ I really think that those who don’t connect or understand their grandparents are really missing a big part of life!

"We grew up on the farm and always saw Grandpa in his truck. He and the truck were inseparable. He would teach me and my brother how to drive, even when we were little children. Probably before we knew how to use a can opener, we knew how to drive Grandpa’s truck. I guess nothing was impossible when we were with Grandpa. We would work at something until we got it. He would also go out of his way to teach us what he knew. Maybe that is also something we saw in him: The desire and love to teach us and share with us what he knew. Today, my brother is interested in the shop and in building equipment because Grandpa showed him how to, and encouraged him to build. Even if it did not work right, Grandpa would tell him to build another one, a better one. I guess this must be another thing that Grandpa taught us, the third point I think: To do something better every time you do it. That’s why today, my brother is continuing my Grandpa’ work, except in a more organized way. Trying to do it better. My brother is the hands-on type. I am more of a history buff. I think I too got that from Grandpa. No matter how old, he wouldn’t throw stuff away. Everything had a story to it, everything somehow made a difference in life. Everything was precious not because how much money people would give for it, but because how it had affected people’s lives. I guess that’s why now I enjoy historic sites. Recently I took a trip to Eastern United States, went all the way from Valley Forge down to Gettysburg, and saw those historic sites where people’s lives changed. I realized that in each of those places, guns and artillery represented living and breathing people who had a dream, a vision that they wanted to pass onto us, even if we are a century and a half later. I know that most people become bored with history. Not me though. Grandpa is always there telling me the story behind this thing or the other. I hope I too can grow up and be able to tell stories about old times and things like he did. I really miss him! I expect to see him anytime come around the corner in his truck!!!"

"My Grandmother was a very classy and compassionate lady. They used to call her "khanoom" because she was so beautiful. My Grandfather had taken good care of her and she had not seen hard labor for even one day in her life. She had lived a good life by all standards. So she always tried to help others make their life better too. Sometimes you see people who have a good life looking down at others. Not her. She would always help others. When I’d ask her why she helped others, she’d always say: ‘Aghcheegús, God has been good to me, your Grandfather has taken care of me in every way. I have nothing to complain about!’ But in fact, I know that Grandma did have something that had caused her pain: Her oldest son went off to war at the age of seventeen and never returned. She would talk about very often but his picture was always hanging on the wall. You couldn’t miss it as you entered her home. She even asked that his picture be placed with her when she died. We did! But instead of complaining, it seemed that her pain motivated her to take care of children that were left homeless. I don’t know how many other children she took care of along with her own. She would say: ‘What else I could do? They’re God’s children. If we don’t take care of them, who will?’ She also enjoyed making people, especially children happy. She would have candy or soujookh (beef jerky) with her, and she’d give it to her grandchildren without anyone seeing. She’d say: ‘If they knew about this, they’ll gossip.’ I guess I saw the serenity and peace in a person who had seen so much joy and pain in life, had interacted with people so much, yet remained positive about life and people. Just as peaceful and understanding in her life, she was that way in her death too! She did not suffer. She was ninety-two when became ill. She called my Dad and said: ‘This is the end. I am going.’ In one week, she was gone. Its like she knew she lived a good life and knew it was time to go. I always see her walking slowly with her cane. I always expect her to be coming up the alley."

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