TO OUR GRANDPARENTS! SVEIKINIMAI!

We stand on the shoulders of those who came before.

We’ve always depended upon prior generations to show us how to live:  

Parents how to parent, through “doing what I say, not as I do”;

Our grade school nuns the love of learning, and to fear rulers and other restraining devices;

Our grandparents, sharing the ‘learned wisdom of long lives’, and hopefully a decent sized estate.

We love being Queenie and Pa, with the recent great fortune to be “in charge” of our grandchildren – a subject for another time – actually, next Sunday.

But grandparenting is evolving, to deal with the mess we made as parents:

As parents we became hyper-involved in our kid’s lives, made their decisions for them, fed them organic foods and wouldn’t let them drink Coke, creating the ‘wuss generation’ – the 18th consecutive generation that will be the end of the world (shakes fist angrily!).

But Old Man Rant aside, this is a ‘story of origin’, and our grandparent lessons.

My Captor had a typical ‘60s grandparent experience, minus the Wonder Bread souffles.

Her grandparents lived nearby, joined for Sunday dinners and hosted an annual “Come see our Christmas tree” visit. But don’t touch…

Children were to be “seen and not heard”, and when they couldn’t make Sunday dinner, they’d send cardboard cut-outs, an emotional upgrade.

My grandparent experience was vaguely fearful.

Dad’s parents emigrated from Lithuania, which for years I confused with Louisiana – making for a scare in 4^th grade World History when I learned the Nazis had invaded, and Mardi Gras might be called off.

They were Adam and Sophie – not very Cajun sounding – but their GP names were the Lithuanian Senelis and Senele, which translated as Adam the Impaler and That’s Sophie to You!

My memories of them are in black and white – as are most of my childhood memories, making me wonder if I’m colorblind.

Adam chewed tobacco and used a spittoon, which was later seized by the EPA as an ecological hazard.

Seeing that in use made me envious of kids whose grandparents had a parrot, or who chewed Nicorette.

They had boarders, and Sophie’s meals were included. After a 7A delivery of my Father – who weighed 13+ pounds (yes predictive text, that’s right) – she was cooking lunch by noon.

She later played linebacker on the packing plant football team, and in a source of marital confusion, was nicknamed Sophie the Impaler.

To make a medium story medium, suffice to say I lack colorful memories.

But I’m grateful to my Dad, for shortening our name from Chesnulevicz. And for teaching us English – Lithuanian looks hard as hell.

Me Mother (nee Gilligan) was very! Irish, but I never met her parents: PJ and Elsie dying before my arrival, and their own time.

Elizabeth was my step- “Granny”, but her friends called her Elizabeth the Impaler, making her seem warmer than she was.

She was the type who gave plain underwear for Christmas, not the Richard Nixon version I’d requested.

The Nifty was the nearby watering hole: beersatthenifty.com/why-beers-at-the-nifty/ Dad and PJ frequented, so there’s that.

Reflecting on our grandparents I realize times were hard: Adapting to a new country and language, dial-up internet access only, and all those New Deal acronyms.

But they did their best for our parents, “I want you to have it better than us”, who then did their best for us – the 18^th consecutive generation to ‘pay it forward’ (Shakes fist appreciatively!)

Which is what makes humans human and brings fulfillment: Behaving selflessly and serving others.

Which is the ultimate grandparenting job description.

For 154 more posts like this –each with a wish for grandparent wisdom – go to beersatthenifty.com. Your phone will display every post, and you can waste an hour or two.

Or, at the site, leave a comment on this post, and then check the box that says “Please notify me of future posts” and you will be sent the newest Sunday update automatically.  

Easier yet, when you read a post, after 15 seconds you’ll be given the chance to become a subscriber: Life gets better and better!

Or just forward this to everyone you know. Forward it to those you aren’t fond of twice.

TO ENHANCE YOUR ENJOYMENTOF THIS POST, PAIR IT WITH THE FOLLOWING SONGS:

Grandma’s Hands  Bill Withers

A great singer from the ‘70s, with a number of hits: Ain’t No Sunshine, Use Me, Lean on Me, Lovely Day, and Just the Two of Us. Great Sunday soundtrack

Grandma’s hands
Clapped in church on Sunday morning
Grandma’s hands
Played a tambourine so well
Grandma’s hands
Used to issue out a warning
She’d say, Billy don’t you run so fast
Might fall on a piece of glass
Might be snakes there in that grass
Grandma’s hands

Grandma’s hands
Soothed a local unwed mother
Grandma’s hands
Used to ache sometimes and swell
Grandma’s hands
Used to lift her face and tell her
She’d say, Baby, grandma understands
That you really love that man
Put yourself in Jesus’ hands
Grandma’s hands

Grandma’s hands
Used to hand me piece of candy
Grandma’s hands
Picked me up each time I fell
Grandma’s hands
Boy, they really came in handy
She’d say, Matty don’ you whip that boy
What you want to spank him for?
He didn’ drop no apple core
But I don’t have grandma anymore

If I get to heaven I’ll look for
Grandma’s hands
Hmm-mmh