My grandfather was an investor.
As far back as I can remember, he studied his Wall Street Journal,
making pages of careful notes in tiny print. I’m sure his transactions
never drastically affected the industrial average, but I don’t
understand enough about what that means to say for sure.
What I do know is that his most valuable investments weren’t in
stocks, but in people.
As news of his declining health began to spread, his five children,
nine grandchildren and even our children, rallied around him and our
grandmother.
He’s touched all of us in different ways, but we can all agree that
faith and family were a common thread.
My earliest memories of PawPaw were going “lots of wheres” on Saturday
mornings. He’d come by just after breakfast and I’d jump in the car,
pigtails swinging. We’d sing “Down By The Station” or “I Eat My Peas
With Honey” at the top of our lungs as we made our stops. Whether it
was the dry cleaners, grocery store or another seemingly mundane
destination, it was always a memorable adventure to me…Not to mention,
a chance to snack on something other than carrot sticks.
Later, he took me to the city on the train for children’s concerts…The
same train that took us to his office at Christmas each year, when
we’d meet him for lunch and catch the light show as the Wannamaker
organ played… If there was ever a reason to skip school and wear
matching dresses, that was it!
Those who knew even a little about PawPaw knew he was quite a musician
himself. Three generations have taken their turn next to him on the
piano or organ bench, studying his fingers, feet and face as he played
song after song and planted music in our hearts. For some of us, the
gift of music goes on, while others of us can thoroughly appreciate
it, but better not quit our day jobs.
PawPaw was also an avid reader. Whether aloud in his best Brer Rabbit
voice, or to himself, as he poured over one of his mysteries. (I
didn’t know who Agatha Christie was, but she sure did keep him
riveted. ) Regardless, his love of reading and learning made me want
to know more too.
PawPaw loved the beach, and is largely responsible for my affinity for
salty air and sandy toes. There was no greater getaway than to his “little slice of paradise” in
Ocean City, New Jersey.
Even after he moved a plane ride away, PawPaw was always present. He
sent long letters and called with questions about my schooling and
“social life,” as he put it. He witnessed my college graduation and
wedding--something he probably thought he’d better see to believe.
And, he held my babies, after faithfully praying for their safe
arrivals.
In good times and bad, PawPaw was there for all of us, anchored by his
steadfast faith. His kind eyes and gentle voice always communicated
that things were going to be OK.
In his immediate absence, things don’t feel OK. But as a personal
investor, PawPaw left a piece of himself with all who knew him. He
helped plant the love of God, family, friends, music, books, learning,
the ocean—even ketchup—in me, which I will pass on to my children and
they will pass onto their children.
My grandfather was an investor in people, with dividends that will
span generations.
And there’s no better return than that.
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, and I have
remained faithful –2 Timothy 4:7, NLT
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2KEe-dA3a4M
As far back as I can remember, he studied his Wall Street Journal,
making pages of careful notes in tiny print. I’m sure his transactions
never drastically affected the industrial average, but I don’t
understand enough about what that means to say for sure.
What I do know is that his most valuable investments weren’t in
stocks, but in people.
As news of his declining health began to spread, his five children,
nine grandchildren and even our children, rallied around him and our
grandmother.
He’s touched all of us in different ways, but we can all agree that
faith and family were a common thread.
My earliest memories of PawPaw were going “lots of wheres” on Saturday
mornings. He’d come by just after breakfast and I’d jump in the car,
pigtails swinging. We’d sing “Down By The Station” or “I Eat My Peas
With Honey” at the top of our lungs as we made our stops. Whether it
was the dry cleaners, grocery store or another seemingly mundane
destination, it was always a memorable adventure to me…Not to mention,
a chance to snack on something other than carrot sticks.
Later, he took me to the city on the train for children’s concerts…The
same train that took us to his office at Christmas each year, when
we’d meet him for lunch and catch the light show as the Wannamaker
organ played… If there was ever a reason to skip school and wear
matching dresses, that was it!
Those who knew even a little about PawPaw knew he was quite a musician
himself. Three generations have taken their turn next to him on the
piano or organ bench, studying his fingers, feet and face as he played
song after song and planted music in our hearts. For some of us, the
gift of music goes on, while others of us can thoroughly appreciate
it, but better not quit our day jobs.
PawPaw was also an avid reader. Whether aloud in his best Brer Rabbit
voice, or to himself, as he poured over one of his mysteries. (I
didn’t know who Agatha Christie was, but she sure did keep him
riveted. ) Regardless, his love of reading and learning made me want
to know more too.
PawPaw loved the beach, and is largely responsible for my affinity for
salty air and sandy toes. There was no greater getaway than to his “little slice of paradise” in
Ocean City, New Jersey.
Even after he moved a plane ride away, PawPaw was always present. He
sent long letters and called with questions about my schooling and
“social life,” as he put it. He witnessed my college graduation and
wedding--something he probably thought he’d better see to believe.
And, he held my babies, after faithfully praying for their safe
arrivals.
In good times and bad, PawPaw was there for all of us, anchored by his
steadfast faith. His kind eyes and gentle voice always communicated
that things were going to be OK.
In his immediate absence, things don’t feel OK. But as a personal
investor, PawPaw left a piece of himself with all who knew him. He
helped plant the love of God, family, friends, music, books, learning,
the ocean—even ketchup—in me, which I will pass on to my children and
they will pass onto their children.
My grandfather was an investor in people, with dividends that will
span generations.
And there’s no better return than that.
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, and I have
remained faithful –2 Timothy 4:7, NLT
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2KEe-dA3a4M
1 comment:
What a great tribute to a great man, Laurie. Thanks for sharing this.
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