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My Father and Sister and I all made our way to Rapid City, South Dakota on the 5th of August. While in Chicago, my Sister ran into my Aunt Carolyn and Cousin Jeff. Within 30 minutes of them arriving to Rapid City, my Father joined us, and we all headed into town to check into the hotel.
Just after we checked in, my Aunt Marylin came to lead us over to the hospice home where Grandpa was staying, just barely hanging on. He looked very weak, and with three of his four kids there, was able to rouse himself a little bit. We aren't sure if he really was aware of our presence, but he seemed to be.
The next morning, we went back to the home to find that he had passed away about a half-hour earlier. We're grateful that we'd seen him one last time the day before.
During funeral preparations, we learned a lot about our Grandfather, and my Dad and Aunts had a good time reminiscing about growing up during the 1950s. Stuff like how, when my Grandfather decided that he wanted to modernize the house, he and my Dad went up on the roof, and, using hand saws, sawed off the overhanging eaves. At one point, my Pop was filling his arms with boards to bring back to the top of the roof, when he began to lose his balance and teeter two stories above the backyard. Grandpa was too far away to grab him, and watched terrified as he almost fell. At the last second, Dad was able to fling himself forward and stay on the roof. Grandpa told him, "We won't tell your Mother about that."
After this was completed, Grandpa decided that the garage wasn't in the right place and that it really ought to be a two car garage. So, he detached it from the foundation, made a new foundation closer to the house, and hooked up a block and tackle to the old Packard, and hauled it on rollers, "Hebrew slaves building the Pyramids"-style, onto the new site. Then, back up on the roof with a hand saw to saw the entire building in half along the apex, pull the two halves apart to make it two-car sized, and then use the pieces formerly known as eaves to fill in the gap. There was pretty much nothing that he didn't think he could do, and he got a lot of satisfaction from creating something functional (though perhaps not always something aesthetic).
We also had the chance to peripherally take part in the huge Sturgis Rally going on simultaneous to our visit. We seemed to be the only visitors in town that weren't decked out in leather pants and T-shirts sporting Harley Davidson logos. Though, it did give me the idea that if we ever have a son, we should name him Harley, so he would be "Harley, David's son." Surprisingly, that got vetoed.
So, while the reason for the trip was sad, it was overall a good opportunity. We got to see Grandpa one last time, say our goodbyes, and spend some quality, though difficult, time with family.
1 comment:
I love Harley as your son's name...very creative.
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