© 2004 by Michael E. Salsbury, All Rights Reserved

The death of a family member is never an easy thing. No matter how much you might be expecting it, no matter how much you might think you’ve prepared, no matter how much they might be suffering, it’s always a sudden and painful shock when it happens. When that family member is also a personal hero, their death is that much more painful.

This past Friday, my grandfather passed away. His health had been declining the last several years, and far more so in the past couple of months, so on some level we all knew that it could (and probably would) happen eventually. Still, when the call came, I wasn’t ready. Then again, I don’t know that I ever would have been. How can you prepare for losing one of the best parts of your life?

Over the years, my grandfather has changed and improved my life in many ways, probably more than he ever knew or might have believed. His is a face I associate with many of my happiest memories. His example put me on a path that has made my life better and richer than I could have imagined. His love, support, and encouragement have meant more than I could ever have told him. I guess it’s fair to say my grandfather had always been something of a hero to me.

When I was a child, I had a pedal car that I dearly loved. While pretending to be a “big guy” like my dad, I pulled that car in the driveway behind dad’s car. The next morning, dad ran over it with his car. It wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t have seen it out the rear window when he backed out. I was devastated. (I imagine it did some damage to Dad’s car, too, though I don’t think he complained about that like he could have. He’s a good guy, too...) My grandfather and my uncle Dee spent several hours in his basement repairing that little car and making it work again. True, it didn’t look like it did before, but it worked and I could ride it again. I was thrilled. He had fixed something I thought was destroyed and lost forever.

Then again, my grandfather always had a remarkable talent for fixing things. His career included many years repairing home appliances for the local furniture store where he worked. It was something that supplemented his income for many years after that furniture store went under (taking all hope of a retirement pension with it). It always amazed me that he knew how to fix just about any household appliance, even one he’d never seen or used before.

I can’t remember all the times I brought him some ailing mechanical device, some broken toy, or something else that “just didn’t work” and he fixed it. He was a miracle worker, not just for me but for the entire family. Never once did he complain about being asked to fix something, and I can’t remember him ever failing to get something repaired.

He stopped doing appliance service calls only when his age and health made it impossible for him to do the work. I believe the work did more than boost his income. It helped him to feel vital, useful, and needed – which he was. It helped him meet other people, get out of the house for a bit, and keep busy. When he was no longer able to do the work, I think it took a toll on his spirits.

My grandparents are at the heart of many of my fondest memories. One year he and my grandmother drove me to Florida for a vacation. I’d never been to Florida before. Truth be told, I probably hadn’t left Ohio. It was a vacation I’ve never forgotten. I saw orange trees, alligators, white sand beaches, the ocean, Kennedy Space Center (I’ve always been a big fan of NASA), Disney World, Sea World, and much more. I was fortunate (and quite happy) to have their undivided attention for a while. It was some of the most fun I’ve ever had, and it’s a memory that will last the rest of my life. A while later, they took my brother and me back again, and it was just as much fun. I enjoyed those trips so much that Florida will forever hold a special place in my heart, and bring to mind memories of my grandparents. I had always wanted to take them back to Florida to thank them, but by the time it became financially possible for me to do it, my grandfather’s health would have made the trip dangerous for him.

During those Florida trips, I became aware of a side of my grandfather that I guess I’d always known existed, but had never seen. While walking around Disney World in Orlando, he saw a 35mm camera sitting on a bench, the owner clearly long gone. He stood by that bench, holding that camera in his hands, trying desperately to locate the owner. When he finally gave up, he took it to the Lost and Found. They suggested that he keep it, because they didn’t think they’d be able to find the original owner. Although he grudgingly kept it, I could see a pang of remorse or regret in his eyes every time he used it. He felt terrible that he had profited by another’s loss, that he couldn’t help them by returning their camera, and that he’d indirectly “harmed” them by keeping their property. He took great care of the camera, I think in part because it was a valuable camera, and in part because he secretly hoped to return it someday to its owner. How many people do you know would do this?

Another time, I decided that for my birthday I wanted to collect one of each of the Matchbox cars released that year. I had a catalog showing what all 72 of them looked like, and a burning desire to own them all. My parents and grandparents helped me collect them over a period of weeks. My grandfather even drove me out of town to every department store, drug store, discount shop, and store we could find that sold Matchbox cars, just to get that last precious few that we couldn’t find at home. Once again, my hero came through for me.

Being with my grandparents has always been a source of comfort, encouragement, support, and love. When I was a child, I would often try to go away and hide near the end of a visit to their house so that I might be able to spend the night with them. Those nights were very special to me, and I wouldn’t trade the memories for anything. Even now, visiting their house is a source of comfort and peace in a life which can often be chaotic and hectic. When I think of “home” it’s their house which comes to mind most often, in large part because of the memories I associate with it.

When I needed a way to get myself and my belongings to college, my grandparents took me all the way from Portsmouth, Ohio, to Syracuse, New York. They did it without hesitation or complaint, even though I know it could not have been an easy trip for them. That’s just the kind of people they have always been. I honestly can’t count (or remember) all the many times my grandfather and grandmother came to my aid over the years. Their kindness, love, and generosity have been a gift I’ve treasured all my life.

Speaking of gifts, although he was always quick to give generous gifts to those he loved, it seemed that he had a hard time accepting them. I remember one year learning that his electric razor was giving him trouble, so I was delighted to be able to go out and find him a nice new one. When I handed him the package, he tried to give it back, telling me that he didn’t need anything and I shouldn’t have bought him a gift. (Thinking about how he would have handled the same situation, I told him “You don’t give gifts because you have to. You give them because you care about someone and you want to show them. So you’d better take it and not insult me.”) He opened it, and cried when he saw that I had gotten him something he needed and wanted. Yet, as much as he needed and wanted it, I think he still hadn’t taken it out of the package a year later. I believe he was worried that I would fall on hard times and need to take it back to the store to get my money back. Eventually, though, he did unpack and use it. I never told him how happy it made me to do something for him for a change. At that moment, I learned why he always did so much for so many people. It feels pretty darned good when you’re done.

In a very real way I owe my grandfather and grandmother a great deal for my life being what it is today. Several years ago, I was living in Pittsburgh and was really not happy. I decided it was time to move on, and I wanted to be closer to my hometown, my grandparents, and my friends. I began looking for a job in the Columbus, Ohio, area. I figured that was as close as I could get to Portsmouth, Ohio, (“home”) and still manage to make a decent living in the computer field.

I had been applying for technical writing positions, because that’s the majority of what I had been doing in my career to that point. Unfortunately, there just weren’t that many in Columbus. A consulting company contacted me to ask if I’d be interested in doing technical support work for Macintosh and PC desktops for a company in Columbus. I was nervous about taking on the job, because I’d never really done tech support before. Sure, I’d tinkered around with it as a hobby, but that was different from actually earning a paycheck for doing it. I wasn’t sure I could handle it. What finally pushed me to consider the position was that it reminded me of my grandfather’s “service calls”. In the back of my mind, repairing computers was kind of like following in his footsteps repairing household appliances. I took the job, and set out to do the best work I could. It felt good being the same “miracle worker” for my co-workers that he had always been to me and my family, and made me feel closer to him.

Even that move from Pittsburgh wouldn’t have been possible without his help. He and my grandmother drove two hours to Columbus to meet the movers who were bringing my furniture from Pittsburgh (while I worked my final days at my former employer). They helped direct the movers to unload my belongings in the apartment and paid them (loaning me the money to do so, because I didn’t have it, and even though they were on fixed incomes). Although they never complained about making that trip for me, or loaning me the money, my grandfather did complain when I began to pay it back… though he did accept the repayment.

The impact of the simple act of following in my grandfather’s footsteps has done more to change my life for the better than I could ever have imagined. My income began to increase, allowing me to pay off the debts I had foolishly incurred when I was younger. I met many new people and made some great friends. I got to spend more time with my family, including my grandparents. I even met my wife at the office. She, too, is one of my personal heroes and my best friend. Through her, a number of my dreams have come true and my life has gotten better in a great many ways. With her, I know it will be a little easier to get through this very difficult time. (So I guess he’s managed to come through for me yet again, by making sure there’s someone beside me to help when he can’t...)

Perhaps more than anything else, my grandfather showed me how a person should live. He was always willing to listen to what I had to say, even if perhaps he didn’t understand it all. When he had advice, he offered it freely and didn’t sugar-coat it. He delighted in easing the burdens of others, and prided himself on not being a burden to others. (Even his final arrangements reflected this. He wanted things as simple and easy on his family as he could make them.) He had a great sense of humor, right up to the end. He had a charm and charisma that few people possess, and which made him an instant hit with everyone he met. In our small town, you could have taken him anywhere and he would see someone he knew, or someone who considered him a friend (or at least a friendly face). He rarely complained about anything, even when we knew he was unhappy or in great pain. I doubt that anyone who knew him could argue that he didn’t enrich their life in some way. You could look far and wide and not find a better role model, but I was fortunate enough to have such a role model not just in my life, but in my family all my life.

I’ve known many good people in my lifetime, but only a rare few deserve to be called “great”. He did. When I say that I will miss him, it is a great understatement. I know that he’ll always be with me in spirit. I just hope that wherever he is, he knows how much he is missed, and how much he was loved. While I’ve lost my grandfather, the world has lost a great man – a real-life hero who deserved far more than any sports star or political figure – yet asked for so very little.