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This article is from Today's
Native Father, issue #108, March/April, 2000. Related articles from this
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Memories of my
Grandfather A Letter to Mothers by Ilva Hertzler |
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Dear Moms, I knew all four of my grandparents. Even though my family lived a distance from all of them, we kept in touch with them through visits, letters and recorded tapes. We children loved to talk to my mother’s parents by tape recorder and they would send messages back to us through the mail. I think some of those tapes and letters are still around somewhere. Mom’s father lived to be 101! Mom’s mother still loved to sing even after her mind became disoriented. I have a wonderful memory of singing hymns with her during this phase of her life. She sang in a strong alto voice and knew the hymns by memory. But the grandparent who made the biggest impact on my life was my father’s father. Grandpa was a small, energetic man with a white beard and twinkly eyes. He could cry as hard as he could laugh and sometimes you didn’t know which was which. I suppose all of my many cousins thought they were the most special grandchild to him, but I know I was. I was his “little lambiken.” He didn’t like to get his hands wet when drying dishes, so he would use two dishtowels. Grandpa could juggle three eggs at a time. It looked easy enough until I tried it. He didn’t like to be crowded when traveling. He loved fried chicken. He “could eat it every day and twice on Sunday.” He would have, too, if someone had made it for him. Grandpa wrote me a letter when I was only a month old and I still have it in my baby book. He was looking forward to the day when I would accept Jesus as my Saviour. He told me this would be the most important day of my life. I treasure this letter very much. He set a good example of being faithful to the Lord, his church, his wife and family. Here’s a special memory. I lived with my grand-parents for several months when I was dating the man who is now my husband. We had to leave very early one morning to drive a distance to visit his parents. My grandpa—get this—got up and made breakfast, his famous grandpa pancakes and chicken gravy. AND it was his fiftieth wedding anniversary! I can taste them yet. It is such a wonderful memory for me, the four of us at the breakfast table, they in their bedclothes, eating and laughing, Grandma drinking coffee almost boiling hot, as only Grandma could. What a gift Grandpa gave me! Thirty-four years after his death we still speak of him at family reunions in loving, respectful tones. My own parents have been loving grandparents to my children. I wish I had more space to tell of all they have given in love, time, resources, prayers, concern, letters and investments in my children’s lives. Grandparents sometimes wonder if they are loved and appreciated. After a lifetime of giving and living, they may wonder who cares. If your grandparents are still living, please tell them of your love. Say “Thank you” for what they have done for you. Don’t forget! Ilva |
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