mrow I wonder what he was like 051212
hubert ya ..I only have one grandparent.. my grandpa 051212
birdmad on my father's side, i have almost no memory of my grandfather... he died 2 weeks after my 4th birthday and at that point, i had no idea what death really was.

My dad's mom was warm, and lively, but she had a stern edge to her. living sdo far awasy from her and not always having the opportunity to go see her, my memories of her are not as strong as those of my mom's parents.
She did have the complaint that she didn't understand me when i tried to speak spanish, but based on all of the different sources from which i learned, it couldn't be helped.

My mom's parents were both sweet in my memory, my grandfather with his khaki work-clothes and his little dogs, making jokes and playing tricks. tinkering at his workbench in the garage, inevitably smelling of sweat and gasoline. giving us little sips of the blindingly sour grapefruit juice/tequila cocktails he occasionally drank on saturday afternoons while watching TV... just to see the pucker on our faces from the taste.

My grandma, small and easygoing, but with an occasional feisty streak; working in her kitchen with the same casual enjoyment as my grandfather in his garage, she had worn paths in the tile as age turned her walk into a shuffle

i miss them.
re_alisma i am in my mid-thirties, and all four of my grandparents are alive and mostly kicking, though they all have their illnesses and could go at any moment. one of the reasons why i've been home, it seems. took my grandmother to see the doctor today. one gets the feeling that life is getting more and more surreal for them. they probably need to be in assisted living, but none of them are, so far. my parents become drained by it. 110330
lostgirl all of mine are gone...

they each had decorated lives, in their own ways, and though they impacted me very little, there are certain things that 'stuck.'

my dad's father was astonishingly good looking, drank iron city and whiskey boilermakers and smoked a pipe. he died the day i turned seven, and my dad cried on my cake.

my dad's mother thought the world would end or that she would die nearly every day of her waking life. such a glass is half empty was not actually such a shock when she died in such a shocking manner. if that makes any kind of sense.

my mom's mother was the meanest woman i have ever met. how could a grandma be mean? i don't know. really. she didn't like kids i suppose.

my mom's father was the coolest. he drank guinness at the circle tap most days and had an intoxicating laugh. he loved me, 'to the sky,' the first of twelve grandkids. i went to his funeral, at age eleven, and he was the first soul-less body i ever encountered. the funeral was top_notch however, as the iowa irish believe in celebrating life. (by drinking heavily.) i hope i see grandpa in another life.
re_alisma great-grandparents are fair game for almost anything. it's our grandparents that we keep close to the vest or t-shirt or whatever. 110515
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