Grandpa

Growing up, my Grandpa Ayers seemed like a giant. He stood 6'4" and I don't know how much he weighed, but he was solid. He had the hairiest arms and chest, and the hands of a gorilla. He was always doing something. When I was little he owned an appliance store in Schuyler, but then became the Supt. of Utilities. But that was just his day job. At night he would tend to his cows or some rye grass he might have planted. He would go for coffee at least twice a day, and we always knew if he wasn't at the office, we could find him at Western. We also knew that he would always be gone on Thursday nights, because he would be looking for "treasures" at the auction in Fremont.

He absolutely adored us kids, and we knew it! He would give us ice cream for breakfast, let us dodge cow pies in his pasture with the golf cart, taught me how to drive at the age of 12 so he could pick up fence, and would even let us sit in his giant-size recliner (for awhile). He teased us endlessly about boys we liked (when we were too young to like boys), and was never to welcoming to the boys we brought home (when we were old enough). He absolutley adored my friend Diane, with the red-hair! I think it was because she would give him as much shit back as he gave her! and his favorite joke was, "Want a Hurtz Donut? (Punch in the arm) Hurts, don't it!"

As life has its way with all of us, my Grandpa gradually slowed down. He refused most medical attention, and if he would agree to some sort of procedure, he would never comply with the rehab. For example, when he had back surgery many years ago, he was on the tractor two days after returning home. No doctor would touch his knees because they knew he would never do the exercises needed to break in the new ones. Life took its many twists and turns over the past 10 years, and my grandpa ended up moving to david place, much to his chagrin.

I have really enjoyed working at david place the past few months, because it has given me an opportunity to visit with my grandpa in a more "casual" manner. He would come to me, ask what I was doing, and then go on his merry way. That was just him. To go and sit in his room for a visit deemed long enough in duration would've been way too long for him. He was busy, he had things to do. But over the past two months, I noticed that he wouldn't even see me in the window anymore. He would just scoot on by without stopping to say hi. This larger-than-life man had slowly become a prisoner in his own body. He wanted to roam, to go, to be busy.....none of which he could do. And so, this morning of his passing, I am happy for him that he is now free. Maybe God will find something for him to fix, just to amuse him!