Early riser

I woke up at 5:30 this morning. Not a good time to be wide awake since I didn't go to bed till 12:30 this morning. I took the time to do a load of dishes and make pancakes. The boys got breakfast in bed!
Waking up with someone, or something, specific on my mind and not being able to go back to sleep bothers me. I worry about something being horribly wrong with that person. This morning, I woke up thinking about Pop. I was thinking that he should dictate his experiences in WWII, Korea, and Vietnam to Bud so that he could type them up. As those in Pop's generation die, many of the "real" stories of what happened during these wars, the Depression, the post war times will be lost. Every story told has some historical significance.
I called and talked to Ma. Pop is fine. He's painting, something he loves to do. They are debating (arguing) their Sunday School lesson. The subject is :God gives us talents, how do we know if/when/how we should use those talents. I told her that was easy, develop the talents and do whatever your mother says! Sorry, Pop, it sounded like the best answer to me!
Now, back to Pop: He was one of a gaggle of kids. I think there were 11 or 12 born, one boy died as a toddler. Pop was a middle child. His dad worked for the Pennsylvania Railroad. His mom was what they called a "looker" in her day. She was a beautiful girl, fair skinned, blue eyed and blond. I was told that a gypsy fortune teller told Grandmother that she would marry a short man who worked for the railroad and they would have 16 children. Grandmother scoffed at the idea, then married my grandfather; a short man who worked for the railroad! They had 12 live births, 4 miscarriages/stillbirths for a total of 16 children. My oldest cousin, Tom, was a month older than my youngest aunt, Nancy.
Pop and all of his brothers except two served in the military during WWII. One was too young, the other was not eligible for health reasons. After WWII, as I have been told, Pop was supposed to become a Baptist Minister. Instead, he stayed in the Air Force and married a Southern girl. Unfortunately, Ma was no genteel southern lady (she is a lady, but she speaks her mind!). She was not the right type of woman to be a minister's wife! Pop never became a minister. He is a Deacon in their church. I told him that he was chosen because they were running out of men to pick! (It's a joke, OK??)
After he retired from the Air Force, we lived in Greenville, SC. When he got the opportunity to teach ROTC in Charlotte, we moved. They have lived in the same house since 1968. While he was teaching, Pop got his BA in Education and his Master of Arts in Education (MAED). Then, he gave up teaching. He started driving a courier truck, making deliveries and pick ups from banks in North and South Carolina. He was told that he was wasting his education, and he was, but he couldn't work within the conventional "walls" of education. He would tell his students historical accounts based on what he had seen and experienced, not based on what the textbooks said. Not a good career move!
I think Pop enjoyed being a courier. He was able to get out and go, he met a variety of people, and he could talk as much as he wanted. There was a coffee cup waiting for him at each of his regular stops. He kept track of how many miles he logged by the day, week, month, and year. He even discovered where Ma's father was buried on one of his trips.
Pop's military retirement meant that he was at home more when Russ, Thom and I were growing up. When Kathy and Bud were little, he would be gone for months at a time. Pop liked to think he ran a tight ship. His favorite phrase was "I'm gonna cut your heart out and make you eat it!". I used to wonder how long I could live without a heart if I was expected to eat it. Would it be fed to me raw or cooked? How would it taste? I was smart enough not to ask! We had a "duty roster" posted on the refrigerator and inspection was every Saturday morning. Our chores had better be done.....or else! Being grounded was way better than getting a whipping with Pop's belt! Saturdays were great! If we passed inspection, Pop would take us out for lunch and to a variety of "interesting" places like the train station or the airport. He did this to get us out of Ma's hair. Ma didn't see it that way. Instead of using this time to do what she wanted to do, she would clean the house. Then, she would feel resentful because she didn't get to go out. I can understand that, now. In the summer, there was always schoolwork. Math problems to solve and reading to do. Reading was especially important to Pop. He tutored in an adult reading program for years. To Pop, teaching someone to read was like giving them an unlimited gift. It could be used forever. I got my love for reading from Pop. He was an excellent tutor with my kids, niece and nephews, too. It wasn't enough to read a book, we were expected to discuss the story and formulate our own opinions about it.
Dinner time at our house was always interesting. Pop could whistle loud enough that every kid in a five mile radius knew it was time to go home for dinner. When he stood on the porch and whistled, everyone scattered! Several of the neighborhood moms expressed appreciation for Pop's whistle. They never had to yell for their kids, they just waited for the whistle! We always discussed something at supper. Current events, arts, history, or just daily happenings were all fair game. One evening, our political discussion became so heated that our next door neighbor almost called the police! She was afraid we were going to start throwing fists! Everyone was entitled to an opinion and we were encouraged to express ourselves. We were never "wrong" unless we could not support our ideas. No matter what the topic, if we had a logical and rational reason for our opinion, it was accepted. It was not always agreed with, but it was accepted!
When Dave asked for my hand (yes, he actually asked my parents' permission to marry me!), Pop took him to the kitchen. They were away from, but not out of, mine and Ma's ear shot. Pop said, "She's just like her mother. Once you take her out of here, you're not bringing her back!". That was how permission was granted. As he prepared to walk me down the aisle, he said, "This is it. You can go home now, if you want to." Then, we stepped into the sanctuary and walked down the aisle. I saw his joy repeated when he watched Catie walk down the aisle not too long ago. He sure loves flirting with bridesmaids!
Pop enjoyed his grand kids, too. My favorite picture of Pop is when Elliott and Colin were about 9 months old. Pop had a baby on each knee with a box of vanilla wafers between them. Thom's Doberman, Shogun, sat on the floor beside the chair. Each baby would get a cookie, Pop would get a cookie, Shogun would get a cookie. This process repeated itself until the box was empty and everyone, including Pop, was asleep. It was an afternoon well spent. Soon, Pop will get the chance to bounce a great-grand baby on his knee.
When Pop had his stroke, I saw first hand how fragile life can be. Pop gave up coffee, something I never thought he'd do. Right after his stroke, he had to have all liquids thickened to a honey thick consistency. Thick coffee tastes as nasty as it sounds! I would sneak and give him regular ice water, carefully explaining how to swallow so he wouldn't aspirate. I'll bet it tasted like heaven! Pop's loss of independence was depressing for him. To this day, he does not like to have someone take him to the bathroom. Bud is an excellent choice for his caregiver. Pop gives orders and Bud, being a good Marine, takes orders. It works for them. While still slurred a little, Pop's speech has improved. I couldn't imagine a worse affliction for Pop than to be unable to talk! He is still able to teach Sunday School and participate in class discussions. His stroke left him weak on his left side. Fortunately, he is right handed so he can still write and paint. He is still able to work crossword and jigsaw puzzles. Little things help him keep his sanity!
Pop's family expected him to become a minister. He became a teacher instead. He used his experiences to teach high school kids military history. He shared his love of reading with his children and grandchildren. He taught us to have a sense of humor as well as a sense of humility (I brought you into this world, I can take you out and make three more just like you!). He used his love of history and reading to teach us about God. We learned to explore the Bible, not just accept the words at face value. We learned to place ourselves in that time in history and think the way people thought then. We were encouraged to take the written words apart and consider what the author was really saying. Only then could we understand what God was saying to us as individuals.
Pop is not without his faults. He can be stubborn as a mule. He can annoy for the sake of annoying. He can swear like a sailor. With all of his faults, I am sure that, when his time comes, he will hear what we all want to hear: "Well done, good and faithful servant." He has "done good".