My Grandpa died last week at the age of 94. It simply won't be the same without him. Helping to fill the void, however, are the many life lessons he passed on to me and everyone he met. Here are just five of my favourites:
1) Have a signature dance move
There
are a number of reasons why it’s a good idea to have a specific dance
move you can call your own. Firstly, it helps eliminate any dance floor
anxiety. You already know what you’re going to do - you’re prepared.
Secondly, it reduces the chance of you unknowingly falling into step
with the folks around you. There’s nothing worse than dancing in a group
and then realizing you’re copying the moves of the person next to you.
That’s exactly the opposite of being cool. A third reason is that you
might - if you’re lucky - have that dance move named after you.
My
Grandpa’s soft-shoe shuffle is known amongst the cousins as ‘the
Grandpa dance’. I don’t plan to ever call it anything else. It will be
passed down through the generations as ‘the Grandpa dance’ - and what a
fun legacy to leave behind.
2) Eat a healthy breakfast
The
concept of breakfast has been lost on my generation. Sipping a latte
and scarfing a banana on the way to work - we should be ashamed.
Something I admired about my Grandpa (and my Grandma too) was his
commitment to breakfast. Real breakfast. Eggs and toast, or sometimes
oatmeal. Pair that with some OJ, a coffee and the newspaper of your
choice, and you can’t get a better start to the day.
Living
to the age of 94 was most likely due to a combination of good genes and
an incredible attitude, but if I had to pinpoint a specific secret to
his long, happy life, I would say it was breakfast.
3) Be able to recite something from memory
Memorize
something. Anything! Just pick some interesting words and commit them
to memory - a poem, a historic speech, a passage from a book, a scene
from a movie - it doesn’t really matter. It’s just a good idea to have a
lovely kernel of spoken word entertainment for those nights when the
power goes out, or if you find yourself around a campfire.
When
the moment called for it, my Grandpa had a particularly brilliant poem
at the ready. It was about a man name Archibald, and it was funny. His
delivery was spot-on too. It can be difficult to transform a crowd of
gabbing Paddens into a captive audience, but he never struggled to hold
our attention. Ironically, I can’t remember anything else about the poem
- just that it was about a guy named Archibald, and it was funny.
These are
the things you wish you could ask him about just one more time. What
was that poem? When did he memorize it? Why did he memorize it?
4) Talk to cashiers and waiters
And don’t back off when they seem: 1) embarrassed, 2) annoyed, 3) non-English-speaking 4) preoccupied 5) goth.
Anywhere
we went - Safeway, Starbucks, a fancy Maui restaurant - he never failed
to strike up a conversation (or at least attempt it) with the awkward
teenager working there.
This
isn’t just a heartwarming characteristic of a bygone era. As a former
Ultimate Bagel employee, I know that senior citizens are just as capable
of ignoring the girl behind the cash register as anyone else. This was a
quality specific to him.
I
never accompanied him across a toll bridge, but I have no doubt he
would have attempted a conversation with the tollbooth attendant. No
matter how many cars lined up behind him. Let them honk!
5) Work hard, enjoy yourself and be happy
Perhaps
the best and most obvious trait of my Grandpa was happiness. He was
genuinely happy. When my friends met him for the first time, this was
always what they mentioned to me afterward.
And
there was something very special about his happiness - something that
made it feel stronger and more real than the more superficial joys we’re
accustomed to in daily life. I think this is because it went
hand-in-hand with pride and gratitude.
I
took it for granted that he never complained. But now I
realize just how rare a trait this is. Sure, he could rant about
politics, baseball or bogus university degrees (mine - in journalism -
was one of them). He had his principles and stuck to them. But he didn’t
whine. He didn’t moan about the weather, or being tired or having to work in the morning. When I made him a GardenBurger - his first ever - all he said as he washed it down with a beer was 'It's interesting.'
He worked hard and built the life he wanted. He was grateful for his life, so he didn’t waste a second of it.
When
he looked around the Thanksgiving table at his children,
son-in-laws, daughter-in-laws, grandchildren and great grandchildren, he
beamed with pride. He, together with my Grandma, have created a
wonderful, loving family. If that’s not a reason to be happy, than what
is?
It’s
sad that he’s no longer with us. I’ll miss him a lot. But it seems only
fitting that my overwhelming emotion be gratitude. I am incredibly
grateful to have known my Grandpa, and to have known him for so long.
Thank you, Grandpa, for teaching me so much.
