A Century of Love

 My girls, Abigail (left) and Alivia, with their great-grandfather a few years ago. How could one not love the smile on that man.

By Allan Olson

So recently this page has changed from my weekly ramblings about family and life to some different editorial opinions written and submitted by others. This week I decided to take a moment to reflect on a life – one that had nearly a century on this earth.

Last week, we received word that my wife’s grandpa was in the hospital. Taking into consideration his age and the prognosis of pneumonia, we were informed that the odds of keeping him around much longer were not good. As he was well known for being stubborn, we held out the hope that just maybe he would prove the doctors wrong one more time and pull through. Unfortunately, it was not to be.

On Friday evening my wife got a call letting her know he had passed. While he was not my “grandpa” in the biological/genetic sense of the word, I have had the privilege of calling him that for the last 23 years. More importantly, because of him, I got to marry one of his many granddaughters, and now my wife and I have four kids that also got to call him their grandpa. My girls especially had the closest bond with him, and both took pictures with him nearly every time we visited. Until a few years ago, when his health forced him to move back to Minnesota to be near family, that bond was virtually non-existent.

This World War II vet, sitting in his little apartment at an assisted living complex, still kept abreast of world happenings, thanks to the little television in his room.  Honestly, there were some things he was more familiar with than I was, and it seemed like every conversation had to do with the weather or news events. 

I remember a conversation a few years ago that made me sit back and think “…this man is a walking road map!” We were discussing my work and an area I had traveled recently, and while I’m not sure how many years it had been since he’d been there, but he discussed logging and driving those roads like he was just there last week. The only thing I could think was, I need a GPS to get around those places, and he knew it like the back of his hand and it had probably been over three decades since he last traveled the area.

A couple years ago, during a family visit, we discussed a little about his time in the military. He was stationed in Pureto Rico, serving in the Military Police. “I didn't care to go, but I didn't resist. I did what they told me. I was offered to take officer training, but I declined. I was too bashful; I'm no officer. Three of the guys I was stationed with trained to be officers, and all of them were killed. Out of the five or six that were offered the promotion, those that became officers were picked off by enemy sharpshooters,” he said. He later saw their names published in Life Magazine.

We were looking forward to celebrating his 100th birthday with him this year, but now instead we will celebrate his legacy and remember his smile. He was always willing to take a photo with one of his grandkids or great-grandkids. I lost my last living grandpa in 1997. My kids never got the opportunity to witness his the twinkle in his eyes when he was messing with someone – in particular his wife or daughters. 

My kids did, however, get the opportunity to meet this man, a man of special caliber. Even last summer at the family reunion, at nearly 99 years old, with the aid of canes, he was still walking around the farm that he established with his wife. He would pause to take a photo with my daughters if they wanted, and do so with a beautiful smile on his wrinkled face, a face that showed age and wisdom, in clear contrast to the youth and innocence of the kids.

Before we headed up north for the weekend, my wife said that it will be different going up there now. I thought it was silly to say that, because our parents and other family members are still there. She clarified that visiting Grandpa had become routine. I found that she was right as over the weekend, many times I had to work to not ask, “When are we going to visit Grandpa?” 

Another great-granddaughter of his posted online about how different it will be going to the farm for a gathering and not seeing him around. I couldn’t agree more.

So the point to all my rambling is for everyone to remember to grab your loved ones, hold them close and appreciate them while you have them. Life is short, so go and create more memories, and enjoy your time together on this planet.

Our last visit with him was at Christmas, and of course, had we known that would be our last visit as a family, we would have made it last as long as we possibly could.

Rest in Peace, Grandpa John. It’s been my pleasure knowing you