“Poppy”, just write about him. That’s all that was written in my notes. Waiting for me were those simple words “just write about him”. This man exasperated me and challenged me yet I think about him so often now that he’s gone. I can still hear his voice greeting his son with a “hey pal” as we’d arrive at their house and I still expect the phone to ring at the end of each Nascar race or Yankee game to talk sports. Pretty much every big sporting event ended with the ring of the phone and his voice on the other end of the call. It was one of his favorite ways to connect with his sons and grandsons. It was the way they bonded, how they passed the time. For years his favorite saying was that he had nothing but time, and for a time that was true.
This man had a ridiculously uncontrollable temperament but he loved his children and grandchildren, and oh how he adored his wife. He had a beautiful soul and if you were patient enough to wait for it you got to experience the sweetness he had within. I learned to have that patience over time. That was a big life lesson for me. It wasn’t easy initially and even though I became so much better at it, I admittedly never mastered it. I tried though. Oh, how I tried.
I was young and more than independent when we met and he had a need to be needed that I saw as controlling. There would begin our rocky relationship that would rear its ugly head from time to time throughout our thirty years together. I remember one visit in particular where his temper took him to a point that I felt crossed the line and I was that kind of person that called him out on it. He had reacted to a situation that I just didn’t think was ok. I remember as the events of that weekend unfolded my little one asking me why I didn’t like poppy. FYI, those are not words a mother loves to have her child ask her about their grandfather. My answer to her was not that I didn’t like him, but rather I didn’t like his behavior. That was probably the turning point for me where I knew that I needed a new healthier approach to him and when our relationship began to change. He was a person that reacted, and the actions of the person he was reacting to could make or break any situation. It became a challenge for me to use my powers for good and not evil. I could steer situations to a new and better place based on my actions if I took the time to try. I had the power. We all have that power. It’s a super power when it’s used for good. This super power is one that requires an invisible cape. One that doesn’t send the message of superiority or judgement, but rather a message of understanding. It doesn’t mean you agree with the other person, but rather you are taking the time to hear them. We all need to be heard. He needed to be heard.
I began calling him Poppy/Pop when my oldest nephew was born. Thank goodness, he finally had a name. Mr. – nope, Vic – nope, Dad – nope… none of them felt quite right. I pretty much didn’t call him by name for the first several years. I’m not sure how I even got around that, but I did. When my nephew was born he became poppy to his grandson and I finally had a name to call him. Phew. What a relief.
My father-in-law was a man that could enrage me at times and warm my heart at others. Before my Katie’s wedding we were down for a visit and talking about what they would wear to the big day. He was adamant that he would not buy anything new. In our conversation, I mentioned to him that he could wear whatever he wanted but I thought he might want to look his best and most importantly feel his best because this was a big event and it was only coming once. We moved on to other topics and continued on with the day. A short time later a voice came from his chair around the corner in the living room… “I’m probably going to regret saying this, but maybe I should get a new shirt and jacket.” It came with that halfway grin that told me he had heard me and as much as he hated it, he agreed with me. He had that same grin he would give his wife as we actively began making plans to shop. It was that sweet man inside that you couldn’t help but love if you were only patient enough.
His love for his wife was strong. So strong that he only survived three months without her. He had been obese for many years which was taxing on his heart and limited his ability to live the life he wanted to live. His limitations, however, never got in the way of the constant care he gave her. I am certain he lived as long as he did with as much pressure as his weight put on his heart, simply because his job on this earth wasn’t done. She still needed him. His love for her might have come with exasperated yelling and constant badgering, but her care became the focus of his life and somehow through the bickering you could feel the love. At times, he’d yell at her and she’d yell back and I could see out of the corner of my how he’d chuckle from his chair at his ability to get under her skin. I know that he drove her crazy, but I know she never lived a day that she didn’t feel completely and totally loved. He without a doubt died of a broken heart shortly after she passed. I wonder sometimes if she wished she had gotten a little more alone time before he joined her, but I’m also sure she knew he wouldn’t leave her for long, even in death. 😉
After his wife passed he would call my office almost daily about 7am knowing that I would get into work early each day. He’d always have something he needed or something to tell me. It was early January and I had just gotten a new coat for Christmas. On this cold day his call was to ask me if my new coat was warm enough. He just needed a friend and someone to talk to and I didn’t miss the irony in the fact that at this point in our relationship I was that friend. I might have taken longer on those calls had I known he only had a few short weeks left with us.
In the days after he passed away I was making the necessary phone calls to places like insurance agencies and doctor’s offices. Again and again I received the same response of shock and sadness. Everyone that understood him loved him. His insurance agent told me that every time he called he was, in her words, “on the edge of the roof”, but she would take the time to calm him down and he would melt into the sweetest man. We heard this story more than once. He had a fear of not being heard, validated, and he entered each situation coming from that place. This was a constant struggle for him. I understand this now, but my heart hurts a little that he went through so much of his life this way. Eventually I learned how with a little a patience, his knee jerk temper could be reasoned with. It was then that I began challenging myself to bring him back from the edge of that roof rather than reacting. It’s as if we arrived together at a place where we realized that we actually thought a lot alike. In the end, this man that I once was constantly at odds with grew to value me and have my back and I had his. That was a blessing that I never saw coming. It wasn’t perfect, he was a challenge, but that was ok.
The world around him challenged him, but I know that he did the best that he could. He was that man that called every waiter and waitress by name, who was genuinely the friend of the woman behind the deli counter, talked sports with the man that owned the bagel store, and valued each of them in a way that I think he longed to be valued. I’m sure after he passed there were so many we never knew about that wondered what happened to their friend.
So now that our conversation that lasted almost thirty years is over, I’m left with trying to live my life having become a better person from knowing him. As is with most everyone is that comes into our lives, I know he was placed in my path to teach me. I don’t think our connection should be one that I dismiss without taking something from it with me going forward. He was the father to my husband and the grandfather to my girls. Had he not lived his life, my life would look so very different. To honor that life and that friendship I must learn from him.
My Katie works in a law firm and deals with her share of old grumpy men (clients). She told me one day that when these men come into the office they remind her of her poppy (they are on the edge of the roof) and she is reminded to have patience, to see through their bad disposition and to remember that they probably too have a beautiful soul and a fear of not being heard. Maybe that’s the take away. That over time I learned how to listen to him and not dismiss him as a grumpy man with an annoying temper, but as a man with a sweet soul that just required my patience. What if because of him I learned and my children learned to be more patient, to see beyond the gruff and look for the beauty in the souls of everyone we cross paths with. Maybe because I took the time, I made his life just a little sweeter as he did mine and because of who he was we can pass that on to others.
I think of him more than I ever thought I would. He became one of my biggest fans, he had my back more often than not, he became my friend. I can’t sit in a place of sadness because I don’t know really what to do with that, but I can and I do and I always will miss my friend, the friend I didn’t seem coming.
Billy graham’s wife’s tombstone reads
"Construction complete, thanks for your patience.”
Poppy needed patience. Don't we all.
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