Random Memory: Grandpa Menz

This memory needs a bit of background information...
I was a wild child growing up! No, seriously... like scary wild. I pretended to be a cheetah and ran around the grocery store growling at people, I never stopped moving, and had way too much energy! I was like a jet pack that never ran out of fuel! I'll never understand why my mother had more kids after me. She must have the unbelievable tolerance of small children I've ever seen. I was a handful!
So, whenever we visited my grandparents on my father's side, I was usually... well, bored. My grandfather worked at Helping Hands and did handyman tasks. There wasn't a thing he couldn't fix. I'm talking squeaky doors, broken bicycles, spammed computers, unflushable toilets, a bat stuck in the chimney. He was the poster child for that era where a man did everything himself and did it well. He rode his tractor around their expansive backyard, grew vegetables in a garden, sang in the church choir every Sunday, and made himself a fish pond full of monstrous carp (at least they were monstrous when I was 9). He was that guy in their small South Carolina town who was a grandfather to everyone's kids at church and that guy you called when you just didn't know what to do about anything.
My grandmother is ULTIMATE GRANDMOTHER! She sings in the church choir, she plays the organ, she gives piano lessons, she sews (she made me an overstuffed ottoman for my birthday!) and stitches, she cooks like a madwoman, and has gray wispy hair. She's the grandmother from Little Red Riding Hood, is Mrs. Cunningham, and Aunt Bea.

I love them both in my own way, but in my fits of fiery energy, I never sat and enjoyed their company. As far as I can remember, I played on my own and zoomed around the backyard and the apple orchard. My grandma tried to teach me piano... I had no patience for that. I learned "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" and that was the end of my pianist career. My grandma tried to teach me to sew... I had no patience for that. She gave me a latchhook rug pattern in the design of Scooby Doo. The box says it's "easy" and "fast." ...I've been working on it for at least six years! 
The times I looked forward to seeing my grandparents was when my dad's twin brother Uncle Brad appeared on his rare trips from Atlanta, GA. Uncle Brad! Uncle Brad was the man!!!! He was this cool, laidback dude that owned a cat and just chilled in his condo in Atlanta with no wife, no kids, and no responsibilities. Kate and I tortured this poor man whenever he visited, making him play with our dolls and out in the yard. I think I am single handedly responsible for Brad never wanting to have children.

Then something happened. I grew up. I have the same energy, but now I know how to correctly use and put it toward constructive activities like biking to class or housework. And one weekend in the summer before I entered 11th grade at East Gaston High, my dad took my two sisters and I down to visit my grandparents. It was to be the last trip before school started, and I was a bit bummed about it because I wanted to spend my last days swimming in the pool and doing nothing. But away we went, and I distinctly remember it being an awesome trip. I started really hanging out with my grandparents, telling them all about my anticipated school year and what I'd done that summer. I have a sharp memory of laughter around the dinner table and learning so much about my grandfather all of a sudden.
On our last day, Grandpa and I had a battle of Solitaire. I had really gotten into the game on the computer as a way to ease summer boredom . Grandpa was also a master at the game, particularly at Spider Solitaire. However, game after game, I won easily! In fact, I ended up showing him a few tricks to help him with his game. He looked at me in wonder... or maybe it was horror at the realization of how much time I was spending on the computer. Either way, I have the strongest, sharpest memory of thinking, "I want to know more about this person. I actually can't wait to come back."

~~~

A day before school started back my mother comes into my room to wake me. Grandpa had gone to the hospital that morning for a scheduled triple bypass surgery. It would be the second in his lifetime. According to his doctors, he had a 99% chance of surviving. The surgery went fine. But afterwards, he never woke up. And per his request, my grandmother turned off the machines. 

And, I never got my chance. My only consolation is knowing that I had that last day, that God gave me that last day and made sure I appreciated it because He knew that it would be the last. 

I've never told anyone that. But it's a memory that's been bothering me lately, a memory that always pops up when school starts back again. I started my 11th grade year with the burden of my grandpa's passing and skipped out on Friday's classes to attend his funeral where I delivered a eulogy. I don't remember what I said. All I know was that I was scared out of my mind of giving a speech in front of a church of people. I also remember afterwards when I sat back down in the pew beside my sister Kate that it was one of the few times I've seen my dad cry. 

It's one of those memories that teaches a lesson, a reminder to never take that last moment for granted because it could be the very last. Nowadays, I don't get to see either my mother's parents or Grandma very much. It's hard living away from my parents who I have to drive to see. Unfortunately, my grandparents live in South Carolina and I can't see them all together. My parents' siblings don't live in North Carolina either. We see each other when we can. And, I never take a single moment for granted.

Graduating high school, Father on L & Grandma on R