Tuesday, December 29, 2009


My grandfather died when I was 10. I still remember him clearly - the towering frame, the smile, the wit, the letters gleefully typed on his shiny new C64 (and eventually a C128). I remember flashes of moments - him catching a walleye on Lake Brittle, my first fishing rod given one Easter, a Christmas here and there.
My memories of my grandmother, his wife, are much more vivid and fresh. She's always been around; that short, feisty Norwegian who may have been mostly blind, but it never seemed to stop her. She got around, slowly as she got older, but she refused to be stopped.
Her smile, her laugh, the late-afternoon bourbons.
As I got older I thought of her, as herself, not part of a couple. Not that my memories of my grandfather had dimmed, but her vibrant personality was in the forefront. I thought about her a lot last night, and I found myself thinking of her and my grandfather as a couple, again. Together.

I miss you, Margie and Bob.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

mr spidle.....
Or 'Robby' as I used to know you.
It's been waaaaay too long. I always thought of you as one of the four amigos - Mike, Aaron, You, and Me.
We need to talk.
I've actually been wondering about your whereabouts for years. "Whatever happened to Robby'?"

Hey man. I'm in New York now, but email me at rugbytripi@yahoo.com

I'm glad to see you're still kickin. The world's a better place for it.

Call me bud. It's been too long.

Peter Tripi