Two of the bazillion things that remind me of my grandpa: storms and spoons.
Tonight was a one of those stormy scary nights. Mom called and woke me from my nap saying that I needed to get in the bathroom. Before we could get off the phone I heard the hail and the winds. So off I went.
Nights like this remind me of grandpa. He was always outside. When the weather would turn bad he set up camp on his back porch. If it got pretty bad, he'd move over to our carport and send grandma to our basement. (we lived next door, btw). I knew it was a terrible storm if he came inside and even worse if he came to the basement. I always felt safe, even when mom was panicking, if the men were still outside. I miss that.
Now about the spoons. Gramps ate EVERYTHING with a spoon. When setting the table, we didn't bother to get him a fork. It would have gone unused. At the dinner table, that spoon was also a disciplinary tool. Chewing with your mouth open, WHACK! right on top of your head. Smacking? Whack! Refusing to eat peas? Whack! - I got that last one a lot. I'd cry, "but Paw Paw, I don't like peas!" He'd say "tough". If I whined again, yep you guessed it, Whack! then "now hush and eat your peas". I still don't like peas. My head hurts just thinking about it. ;) But, mostly, it just the heart that hurts on night like these.