My Grandpa Marv, short for Marvin, was the most important person in the world to me. He was tall, with dark hair, dark skin, probably from working on a farm, and pale blue eyes. He wore jeans, button down shirts, a ball cap, and rubber boots most days because he had to milk cows and other chores one his dairy farm. He chewed tobacco, so I actually love the smell of Copenhagen; it reminds me of him. He had rough hands from being a hardworking man. The tip of one of his fingers had been cut off by a piece of farm machinery.
I remember when he would have to go out into the fields to plow, or whatever it was he had to do, and I would go with him. He had a big blue tractor with a white cab that I was able to sit with him in. I remember being scared when we would be on the slope of a hill. I thought for sure we would tip over. He would also take me with to milk the cows and to feed them. I would walk down the aisle that was between the two rows of cows eating. I was scared that they might bite me. I also remember being with him when a vet came out to deliver a calf. It was not a pretty sight. I don't think I need to share the details of that.
My grandpa loved to go for long drives in his blue ford pickup. We would go visit friends of his or just drive around. He would almost always take me to the Wanamingo Creamery. I would get an ice cream sandwich every time. That is probably one of the best memories I have. He once brought me to the doctor with him, to get stitches taken out of his hand, I can almost here him chuckle, as I had to turn my head because I couldn't watch. I even remember him, a few times, stopping at a bar in Wanamingo, while we were out driving around. It didn't bother me to be there, I was just happy to be with him.
This is all that I remember before he got really sick. He had cancer, but did really well for several years. He and my grandma had to sell their farm because he wasn't able to do the work anymore. I was about 7. He moved to a trailer house out in the country. There was a two door garage and an old barn. It also had a big weeping willow tree that I would imagine was my house. There was also a corn crib that we would play in. I remember it always being cold and windy.
As my grandpa got sicker, I got more nervous. He had an oxygen tank so I was so scared he was going to stop breathing. He was tired a lot and would have to take naps. I would lie down with him and just stare at his chest. If it didn't rise and fall after so long, I would shake him to make sure he was still alive. I look back at that and feel bad; here he was trying to sleep and I was waking him up constantly. I did stuff for him, because I wouldn't want him getting up. If he needed something I would get, if I could. He called me his little nurse. He picked me up once from school, I was in third or fourth grade, and when we got out of his blue Ford truck, he fell. I remember being so scared. He assured me he was ok and that he just needed to rest before he started walking again. I just waited with him.
My grandpa's cancer had spread almost everywhere by the time I was 10. He and my grandma knew his time was short. I remember being there when a pastor came out to talk with them, I'm assuming about death. I was nervous and kept putting my feet up on the coffee table. My grandma, I think, was getting irritated. She kept putting my feet down. I just didn't want to hear what was being said.
My grandpa and grandma celebrated their 40th anniversary right before he died. There is a picture that I just love from that day. It is of him and my grandma by a picnic table that had all their anniversary gifts on it. He was sitting on a chair, wearing a black jacket with yellow and gold stripes around the bottom of the sleeves and collar. He also had his blue and white baseball cap on that said Cannon River Inn, which was the name of my dad's bar. My grandma was standing behind him. He looks ill in the picture, but he was smiling and it is exactly how I remember him.
On October 4th, 1985, my grandpa died at St. Mary's hospital in Rochester. He was 58 years old. He had gone into the hospital about 2 weeks before. I wasn't able to see him; my mom thought seeing him would upset me. I remember being mad because I had a distant cousin got to go see him. He was supposed to be released on Friday, October 4th, so my cousin and I had made him several welcome home cards. I was so excited. When I walked out of my classroom, after the dismissal bell rang. I rushed to get my coat and backpack, I passed my uncle who was there to pick up my cousin. I thought it was odd that he would be there and then I saw my mom. I had a feeling something was wrong because of the expressions on their faces. It was possibly a sad expression. I told my mom, very excitedly, how my cousin and I made these cards for my grandpa. She didn't say anything. I was scared. When we got out to our truck, she told me he wouldn't be coming home. He had died of a heart attack I instantly started crying, and I just couldn't figure out how he could have died the same day he was suppose to come home. I felt I lost everything that day.
I have so many other memories of grandpa, way too many to put into writing. He treated me so well. I was his girl. I am so glad that I got to spend so much time with him. I feel I spent more time with him in 10 years, than I have anyone else in my lifetime. My Grandpa Marv will always have a very special place in my heart. If there is a heaven, and which I believe there is, I can't wait to see him.
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