Saturday, February 28, 2009
Goodbye Granddad
I am happy. I think Granddad would want me to be happy for him. He lived 92 amazing years filled with all types of life experiences. He was a son, a hitchhiker, a college student, a soldier, a husband, an engineer, a friend, a father, a grandfather and a great-grandfather. These are just a few of his titles and accolades. Above all, he was a man of faith. For that reason, I think he would want us to rejoice that he's gone to heaven. He's celebrating with Grandma, his parents and his brothers and sisters as well as meeting my daughter Isabelle for the first time. We're going to throw one heck of a party in his honor, sing some of his favorite hymns and old time favorites ("Ragtime Cowboy Joe", anyone?), and tell stories until we laugh so hard we cry. I'm lucky to have known him and loved him. I thank God for such a wonderful grandfather and such a long time with him. We'll miss you.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
WoW! Go Grandad! Cowboy Joe!
ReplyDeleteMy favorite memories of Grandad would be playing Gin Rummy of course...he patiently taught all of the grandkids how to play the game, and he never let you cheat...or break the rules. "You didn't let me cut the deck!", he'd say. Nope, no getting around any aspect of the Gin ritual no matter how tedious. He would meticulously markdown the score in his perfect print and he never just 'let you win' no matter how little you were. It might sound mean, but it wasn't at all...it just made that first victory so much sweeter. He's smile and shake his head, and check and re-check your cards before graciously admitting defeat. Then, as the proud victor, you'd be sure to tell anyone that would listen that you beat Grandad at Gin! It was a right of passage.
ReplyDeleteMy other favorite memory was his house in Borger. I can't think of Grandad without thinking of all the fun we had in that house. There was the bookcase in the living room full of treasures and a few decent videos (the Glenn Miller Story and Little Mermaid were favorites :). The rattle snake tail in the little well of a brass windmill on his mantle. Grandma's chair that you couldn't help but spin in (and inevitably tump over provoking a, "I told you not to spin in that chair!" from one of the grownups). The baseball-looking ottoman we sat on to watch TV or to play Gin with Grandad. That cool built-in speaker system circa 1970-something that you'd race around the house using as if it were the coolest invention known to mankind. Grandma's bathroom with her scented powder that I'd always cake myself in after a bath. His bathroom with his old-timey shaving brush and soap neatly laid out next to the sink. The basement with the chalkboard where we'd leave messages to other cousins or the corkboard where we'd create designs out of the colorful pushpins. And of course the kitchen where you could always find gum in the drawer under the telephone or mixed nuts and vanilla wafers in the cupboard next to the ovens. Even the yellow shag carpet was cool because you could shuffle your feat and get the biggest zzzzaps! when you touched something (or someone!).
I could write all night long about the wonderful childhood memories...but the last memory I want to share wasn't from childhood, it was from adulthood. My husband and I were visiting over labor day weekend the year before he moved to Little Rock. He had been a widower for well over 10 years at that point and had certainly gotten engrossed into a few routines.
One morning he made us bacon and then fried a few eggs in the bacon grease. He himself didn't have any (as I guess he wasn't supposed to have fried eggs anymore), but when he was done, he carefully poured the bacon grease into a tin can and then put in in the freezer next to about 18 other tin cans. I asked him if all those other cans were grease too. When he said 'yes,' I asked him why he kept them all. He got rather cross and let me know that he kept it because some days he only fried himself one piece of bacon and that wasn't enough grease to then fry his egg...so he kept extra grease on hand. Not understanding the big picture, I didn't let it go. "But Grandad, you don't even eat fried eggs anymore! "Besides", I said, "there's enough grease in one of those cans to fry at least a dozen eggs. I mean, do you really need 20 cans??" Without knowing it, I crossed a line. "Young LADY, I will decide what I do and don't need. You don't cook for me do you?!" Wow...I was stunned. Grandad had NEVER talked to me like that before. EVER. I immediately dropped it.
Later that afternoon, we were sitting in the living room and he was having a smoke, and he said, "Gina, I want you to forgive me for getting to cross with you....it's my temper you see. But I've been thinking about what you said, and I don't need all that grease so I'm going to throw all but one can out. Can you help me take it downstairs to the alley (where the dumpster was)?" "Sure Grandad, no problem I said."
So we went into the kitchen and started emptying the cans from freezer into a brown paper sack. There must have been 20 of them. And as we got further and further back into the shelf I began to wonder..."Grandad, how long have you been saving all this grease??" I asked. "Well, let's see...Chain saved most of it. I guess it's past time to get rid of it. I don't even think these cans are good anymore."
It was at that moment I finally got it - why he had gotten so mad at me. He saved the grease the same way Grandma had. Like with so many other things around the house, he just picked up where she left off. For 10+ years he had been carefully saving grease 'just in case.' Asking him why he didn't clear out the freezer was like asking him why he did anything...it was simply life as he knew it. And me pointing out the fact he didn't need for all that grease was like reminding him that she was gone. I remember crying that night and imagining Stephen alone without me for that long. I know he'd do just fine, but still...it's a sad though that you might leave your soul mate behind. So my heart is full right now because I'm so glad he and Grandma are finally reunited. Theirs was a love for the record books, and I'm sure the first thing she said was "Oh George! What took you so long?!?!"
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteFive Foot Two, Eyes of Blue, performed by George F. Robie, Sr.:
ReplyDeletehttps://mywebspace.wisc.edu/xythoswfs/webui/_xy-25744133_1-t_dZbYmOfv
Ragtime Cowboy Joe, performed by George F. Robie, Sr.:
ReplyDeletehttps://mywebspace.wisc.edu/xythoswfs/webui/_xy-25744132_1-t_5cnYuGUJ
Please Don't Blow Your Horn, performed by George F. Robie, Sr., with Patty Snider on backup:
ReplyDeletehttps://mywebspace.wisc.edu/xythoswfs/webui/_xy-25744134_1-t_MVMsYDC6
Sergeant McGuinness, performed by George F. Robie, Sr.:
ReplyDeletehttps://mywebspace.wisc.edu/xythoswfs/webui/_xy-25744135_1-t_ambpDesK
an Instrumental Piano piece, performed by George F. Robie, Sr.:
ReplyDeletehttps://mywebspace.wisc.edu/xythoswfs/webui/_xy-25744136_1-t_g3upJKwB
Granddad Robie (aka George, Uncle Bud) touched our lives in a multitude of ways. His love of music, and how he shared it with us through his singing and piano playing, was a tremendous gift to all of us.
ReplyDeleteHis daughter, Patty Robie Snider, smartly made these recordings of Granddad playing and singing in preparation for the family reunion at Oglebay Resort 20+ years ago. Here they are now in digital format for everyone to enjoy.
The web addresses above (in prior entries) will bring up specific songs. Copy and paste the address into a web browser to access the song.
The address below, however, will take you to a zipped folder of all five mp3 files, so you can easily install them on your player.
Hope everyone enjoys fond memories of Granddad/George/Uncle Bud as you listen!
Web address to dowload the folder of files:
https://mywebspace.wisc.edu/xythoswfs/webui/_xy-25751666_1-t_xkD7WTei
A quick note: I spell Grandad with one "d" in the middle. I've always been a marginal speller and this is how I've always done it! Sorry to you two-"d" spellers out there.
ReplyDeleteGeorge F. Robie, my last living grandparent, past away last Wednesday at 92. He will surely be missed by everyone in his family and anyone he met along the way. Grandad is without a doubt, one of the best Christian men I have ever been privileged to know. He had a faith that has made its mark on my entire family.
He was a paratrooper in World War II, and made 13 jumps in his career, one into enemy territory right before D-Day. He met my grandmother on a blind date while in the service and he worked for Phillips Petroleum for his entire career. He was an engineer with pack-rat tendencies and impeccable organizational skills. He was a great card player, musician and wonderful grandfather.
Because he is the one grandparent that I knew as an adult, I have many memories of him, and honestly, not one bad one in the bunch. I thought I could write a few down-- some that I share with my ten cousins and some that are probably unique for me and Grandad.
1. I remember Grandad reading me a Raggedy Ann and Andy book where they took a boat through a spooky place. Maybe I'm combining two books because I can't find this particular one, but I remember that Grandad's reading "voice" was very deep and that he and my mom read stories in the same way.
2. I remember sending him "pen-pal" letters when we moved away to Houston. He would correct my letters with a red pen and send them back to me with his reply. We traded letters for many years, and I can remember his distinct, very neat handwriting that accompanied each one.
3. Around the dinner table in his green kitchen, I remember him telling us in his "Julia Child" voice how he had prepared dinner that evening. (Although my grandmother always prepared the dinner.)
4. I can see him peeling an orange with his pocket knife right now. He taught me how to do this over a game of checkers.
5. Endless games of Gin-Rummy. Much like Gina, I remember specifically one night, sitting on the baseball ottoman facing him, perched in his orange tower-of-a-chair, and I didn't win a single hand. No mercy-- but I got better. Then, I remember him falling asleep during some of our games at the nursing home, and him still beating me.
6. Playing the piano. He taught me (and probably a few others) to play chop-sticks and had a special accompaniment that he played so that we could entertain our parents with a duet. Also, he would let us bang out a few high-notes to punctuate the end of his songs.
7. Coming to my high school and college graduation-- and my wedding. The only grandparent I had at any of those events.
8. Singing "Boomer Sooner" with him and talking to him about life at OU-- He is my only relative to attend OU and graduated in 1939. We talked a lot about his time as a Delt and his time in the University singing group. Because I was a Theta, he told me that he only really had one Theta friend, named Rose-- who wasn't very attractive, but he thought she liked him quite a bit.
9. Gal-Dern.
10. I know this isn't a Grandad memory specifically, but it's a tribute to him. I had the opportunity to be with him the last few days of his life in the nursing home here in Little Rock. During that time, he had a number of nurses and aids come visit him in his room--(everyone up there always told me how much they liked him.) As I was leaving him one evening, one of his nurses, Charlotte, who is normally very friendly, kept her back to me. I told her goodbye as I got on the elevator and she turned around and had been crying. She said that this was going to be hard for her, too and that she would miss him.
I will miss him for a while until I can see him again.
One edit, should say: seven cousins and brother and sister!!
ReplyDeleteMany of you came to Little Rock and met the LPN that was on the day shift M-W and lots of other days. Charlotte Powell. She clearly, as Leanne noted, cared deeply for dad. Read below her note of condolence on a card she sent to our home. Patty
ReplyDeleteDear Patty, Dan and family, Dick and George,
I just wanted to thank you for the privilege of caring for your father these past few years at Presbyterian Village. Each person always makes an impression on us and love of family was your dad’s.
I shall never forget the times we “scoured the parking lot” and times when he would say “good job” and pat me on the head for something I had done for him.
You have all my prayers for the days of transition ahead as it takes a while to adjust to a new schedule or feeling like “well, I need to . . . .”
Take care and may God continue to bless and comfort you.
Sincerely,
Charlotte Powell
Hello to all---since Im a hunt and peck typer hope you will forgive my imperfect notes ---Just got out my magnifier and got G Todds zip file to transfer to my computer Good thing Im at my office with no-one here on Sun PM dont think Ive shed these big of crocodile tears for quite some time Patty you were right to tell me to do this when no one was
ReplyDeleteLove to all George
IM SO PROUD OF ALL OF YOU and SPECIAL THANKS TO WHOMEVER SAVED THESE MUSIC FILES OF DADS WAS just like being at DR Morgans and listening to him when we were on vacation hope you will continue to post notes and memories of Dad and Mother they were certainly ONE OF A KIND and I feel so proud to be one of their offspring---as I told Dan and Dick the bar has been set extremely high by them my hope is that we all can strife to do as well My best to all George
ReplyDeleteGeorge, Big Bro. Yes, I still have to be by myself to listen to those. Dan has been humming "Cowboy Joe" all week... yes, I know Jay, you are saying, "No humming! No whistling." (we are so tone deaf!) but we are enjoying our memories triggered by the music. Thanks (and you know who you are!!!!) I know you all are getting back in your schedule of life, but please come here often as you have new memories. We want to share all of them. Love to all,
ReplyDeletePatty / Aunt P / MOM / Cuz