Grandparents

I think most of us would agree that being a grandparent is a wonderful time of life. Sure, we’re proud of our children, but the next generation is even more special.

And, like most of us, we probably fondly remember our grandparents. I know I do.

My maternal grandfather was one of the most influential people in my life. He bought me my first bicycle, took me to my Little League games, and taught me how to fix things around the farm.

My grandmother taught me a lot about gardening. She could grow anything!

My grandfather and I would be together Saturday mornings. We watched the New York Yankees, and whoever they were playing in the morning on black and white T.V. Pee Wee Reese and Dizzy Dean were the announcers. We seldom saw any other team than the Yankees. As a result, I was a big Yankee fan as a kid. Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra, Whitey Ford were my heroes.

Grandpa loved baseball. After watching the game on T.V., we’d head to the nearby park where I played on my Little League team. In the first year, we didn’t have uniforms. We drew numbers on white T-shirts with “Yankees” written across the front. Later on, we finally got real uniforms, and I always tried to get No. 7 — Mickey’s number.

In 1960, I was allowed to stay out of school and watch the final game with my grandpa. The game was between the Yankees and the Pittsburg Pirates. Bill Mazerosky broke my heart with his dramatic home run to beat the Yankees and win the World Series.

When I became a sportswriter many years later, I covered the Anaheim Angels and L.A. Dodgers and would take my grandpa with me to many of the games. He said he’d pay to watch Reggie Jackson just in batting practice.

One time, I had the Dodgers put up a birthday greeting on the scoreboard for my grandpa. He was thrilled.

Grandma wasn’t much of a baseball fan. She was the ultimate homemaker. She canned tomatoes and made her own apple sauce. Her apple pie was the best I’ve ever had.

I had a lemon tree in my backyard that grew giant lemons. She could take one of them and make a lemon pie to die for.

They had a little ritual of theirs in the afternoons. Grandpa would go to the local grocery store and get bologna sliced extra thick. He’d also get a chunk of extra sharp cheddar cheese. Grandma would make toast and tea to go with the bologna and cheese, and they’d have their afternoon snack. I usually tried to drop by around that time.

Sadly, they’ve both been gone for many years now. However, I have a common asparagus fern that she gave me a start from her plant. The family story is that the fern came across the country with the Mormon pioneers in the 1840s. Do the math; that would make the plant some 80 years old. I have two starts of the fern in case something happens to one of them.

I gave a start to my granddaughter in Georgia a couple of years ago, and she assures me it’s doing well.

I have three grandsons in northern Utah, and they’re all married and have children … my great-grandchildren! That assures me that I’m old. We don’t see nearly enough of them, but it’s great to see how much they’ve grown when we do get together.

Unfortunately, I didn’t see my grandsons grow up because we lived in Georgia, and they lived in Utah. I would have loved to watch baseball on T.V. with them and then watch them play for their local teams. I might have even made them Yankee fans.

This article is intended for general informational and educational purposes only, and should not be construed as financial or tax advice. For more information about whether a reverse mortgage may be right for you, you should consult an independent financial advisor. For tax advice, please consult a tax professional.