I realized that I am blessed. For almost 20 years I was able to build a strong relationship with both of my great-grandparents. Many people can’t say the same for even their grandparents, let alone the next generation.

As a youngster I donned them with their new names, titles that stuck for 20 years and ones that were used by many not just me. I called Grandpa “Bill” because he reminded me of someone else named Bill. Touching, I know. Grandma was dubbed “Kernie” very creatively considering their last name is Kern.

When I talk about my “great grandparents” visions of elderly, immobile people in nursing homes may come to mind. That is not the case with mine. They were active; they were fun. Great Grandpa was the dad I never had. He fixed my tricycle when I was too young to ride a bicycle and my bike when I was too old to ride the trike. He took me on afternoon fishing trips and taught me my favorite pastime to this day – swinging on a swingset.

Great Grandma baked the sweets and if she found out I really liked something, she baked it way too often until I could stomach it no more. There was always food on the lunch table even if it never was quite enough to feed a growing teenager. She always offered hugs and love, no matter what.

For years, my Wednesday nights were filled with card playing nights at their house. Pitch and cribbage were the games. Many fun memories remain just like great Grandma’s competitive nature still remained strong well into her 80′s. We still swear she cheated every now and then. On Halloween we all would escape to the Golden Corral to hide from the growing number of little monsters that came knocking. After all, the great Grandparents were products of the Great Depression and I was the one who had to be the messenger at the door, the one who had to hand out the cheap black and orange candy we’ve all skipped over in our trick or treat baskets. One kid even tried to force his way into the house exclaiming “Don’t you have anything else in here?”

5 and a half years ago while I was a freshman in college, I received the call I didn’t want to ever hear – Grandpa Bill wasn’t well and I should come home. It was an unexpected shock since it was Grandma Kernie we all felt was slipping. I made the 5 hour drive just in time. I was able to hold his hand, tell him I loved him and he passed away on October 28th, 2003 at the age of 85. I still miss him. As I said, he was basically my father and the bond between a boy and his dad is a tough one to say goodbye to.

Grandma Kernie remained strong, but she was never the same. How could she be? They were married for 65 years and then one day her best friend was gone. I visited her often on breaks and over the summer, but she continually slipped. I am very thankful for the past year, a year in which I was able to take care of her on a daily basis. One week ago I got the same phone call, made a similar drive, held her hand, told her she was loved and on February 9th, 2009 she passed away.

I’m not saddened by their passing. I know they’re in a better place and that I’ll see them again. They lived long lives, at times I’m sure they seemed unbearably hard. Their strength and commitment was inspiring. From losing everything in the Great Depression, to the draft of WWII, to the plain, old fashioned American hard work – through it all they remained faithful to each other and to family. They deserve to rest without the pain of old age. No, I’m saddened that all the wonderful memories I have of them are just that, memories, and that there will be no new ones made.

The empires and fortunes we build on earth fade quickly, but our legacy lives on in the family we leave behind. Theirs is a strong one and something I aspire to.

In memory of Bill and Kernie. Thank you for all the years and all the laughs and all the love.

Creston Clifford Kern – November 29th, 1918 – October 28th, 2003
Elsie Margaret Johnson Kern – August 13th, 1919 – February 9th, 2009

Tags: family, grandparents, memories