I have numerous memories of my grandparents, and on this occasion, I think about one particular memory for each.
In the wake of my maternal Grandma Dottie's passing last May, I recognize how strong her faith was, especially on what was literally a dark and stormy night. I was in the midst of an overnight visit one summer, likely sometime when I was in high school. Following dinner in the Savoy Room at her residence, Lexington Square in Lombard, I was in the Hyde Park Room participating in Wii Bowling. A staff person came in and instructed everyone to return to their apartments because of a tornado warning. I was spooked because of the lack of details, which my Grandma Dottie acknowledged.
Yet as we returned to her apartment, and as the stormy conditions continued, Grandma Dottie, aware of the potential danger of the storm, kept calmly stating that if this night was her time, she was ready to go. She had strong confidence that she was bound for Heaven, because of her deep grasp of faith. (She was also quick to tell someone who called her to get off the phone because it wasn't safe to talk on a phone in a thunderstorm. As God would have it, that night was not her time to depart her earthly life. I knew I would think back on that night when her time came. In the immediate hours after I learned of her passing, I called a few friends to share the news, and I shared that story with one of them.
Grandpa Martin, husband of Grandma Dottie, passed away almost 20 years ago. He was the one person I knew really well who was a veteran. I called him on Veterans' Day regularly each year. He was often sitting in a room in their house in Wheaton near a telephone, and he typically was the first to answer when it rang. He had such an elegant demeanor when he answered and offered a greeting, like "Good morning", or "Good afternoon."
My paternal Grandpa Jose owned a tavern for many years. He learned jokes from the patrons, including one particular one about "brains". It was a sort of inside joke between the two of us about "brains". I can still picture him sitting in a chair in the living room, turning red from laughing so hard at a joke.
His wife, my Grandma Vel, is a very cultured person. She enjoys attending mariachi performances, particularly Mariachi Vargas de Tecalitan. Back in October 2015, we booked tickets to a performance at Orchestra Hall. We made our way to downtown Chicago and through throngs of people in the afternoon following the annual Chicago Marathon. Upon arriving at Orchestra Hall, we found out that the Mariachis were unable to get to Chicago because of something related to their flight itinerary, so their performance was rescheduled. Grandma recognized she would be unable to attend the new date. As we walked back to Union Station, she kept repeating over and over this comment Jimmy Carter had recently made about his cancer diagnosis, about taking the vicissitudes of life in stride. She was sporting such a good attitude about the situation, I actually got fooled into thinking she had no problem with the sudden change in circumstances. It was only later that I found out from her that she regarded the situation as a "disappointment". Fortunately, we booked tickets a year later for the group's concert. And I was amazed to see how immensely she enjoyed the performance in such a genuine way.
These memories, among others, speak to me about how my grandparents have all strived in their own way to live fully, which has been a blessing to me. Thanks be to God!
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