Grandpa: Remembering The Non-Regrets

Today marks two years since my Grandpa passed away. He was my dad's dad, a man I really looked up to, a grandfather who never really stopped fathering. He was a World War II veteran, and, like many of that generation, was an old-fashioned strong and silent type, but his quiet often spoke volumes.

Over this past year I've had to challenge myself not to dwell on the regrets I have about my relationship with him. It's easy to wish that I had spent more time with him or said different things or acted differently. But after a while, dwelling on these regrets just wears me down. I realized they were actually dishonoring to his memory.

So whenever I catch my thoughts wandering in that direction, I steer them a different way, into the "non-regrets." These are some of the things I'm glad I had the chance to enjoy with Grandpa while he was here.

Getting Our Ears Lowered

I don't regret going with him to get my haircut, or, as he called it, "getting my ears lowered." When I was little, maybe 5 or 6, Grandpa started a once a month tradition with me of going to get our haircut at a local barbershop. (This was before "styling salons" were popular... not that Grandpa would ever go to one.) I was scared of the barber the first time we went, but Grandpa bought me a Superman action figure when it was all done because he thought I was brave. We continued getting our hair cut together well into my teens.

Staying On Par

I don't regret all those years of golfing with him. Now, you've got to understand, Grandpa loved to golf. He'd be out on that golf course rain, snow, hurricane... always in competition with himself, challenging himself to get better so he could eventually beat his brother, Russell. I loved the long drives up to the golf course with him, enjoying a steamed hot dog in the club house afterward, and never once being able to beat him. He was never big on conversation, but I remember one day during the ride up to the golf course he give me some advice on women. "Treat 'um right," he said.

Full House

I don't regret living with my grandparents. When I moved in with them in my mid-twenties it was an opportunity to see Grandpa every day and get to know him in a whole new way. The man I saw day in and day out was consistent, optimistic, brave, and loving. I never saw him show anything but love and great respect to my Grandma. I never saw him give anything less than a warm welcome to anyone who walked into his house. Despite the illness he faced in the last few years of his life, I never saw him handle it like anything less than a champ.

When I Said "I Do"

I don't regret having Grandpa at my wedding. He passed away six months later, but the photo I have of him with me and my wife at our wedding reception is the last photo I have of us together, and I'm so glad that I was able to get my act together and settle down with a beautiful young bride before he passed away. He always wanted me to find a good woman. In fact, it seemed to perplex him that I was in my thirties and still hadn't found one to settle down with. So on my wedding day, I know I made him proud.

Grandma's House Is The Place To Be

Pay a visit to Clan Grant in northern New England some day and this is what you'll find: a cluster of cars parked throughout the yard, a large front porch dotted with people in conversations ranging from Star Wars to some distant relative's kidney failure, little kids decorating the driveway with sidewalk chalk, a ball game on the TV in the living room, and food... lots and lots of food.

The Grant family gathered around grandma and grandpa's house, 1996.

This is a typical Sunday at Grandma's house, a large farmhouse, with some Victorian vibes (or a Victorian house with farmhouse vibes... whatever), in the middle of town on a quiet street. Grandma's house has always been the hub of activity for the Grants, a "watering hole" of sorts, where there's always free food, Internet, and a game of cards going on.

I learned to jump my bike off a ramp in Grandma's driveway back before it was paved. My cousins and I tore paths through the lilac bushes and surrounding banks playing GI Joe. I was raised just as much there as I was at home.

And today nothing has changed. Well, I'm no longer jumping my bike off ramps in the driveway, but Grandma's house is still like Mission Control for our family. Except today it's my cousin's children and my little nephews who tear up the landscape with games of tag and hopscotch and water guns and... whatever else kids are into these days.

For the members of Clan Grant, this is the quintessential American dream. We wouldn't do life any other way. We're a tight family. We love being together, especially if there are burgers and dogs on the barbecue and soda in the fridge—and yes, up here in New England, it's soda. Not pop.

This is part of the reason Danielle and I want to be closer to family. We were both raised in very similar New England families where mom and dad taught their kids proper manners and grandma's house was always a place full of generous helpings of love and cookies.

Danielle can recall a time when she was a kid and her mother wasn't home when she got a hair brush knotted up in her hair. Being only about a mile from her Nana's house she hopped on her bike and peddled down the road, tangled brush bouncing around on her head—which today would probably be considered fashionable—where grandma helped her get the hair brush free.

Both of us can recall countless other times where we would walk or ride bikes to grandma and grandpa's house for help, sweet treats, cable TV, and a little extra attention. In fact, when I think about the reasons we go to our grandparents' houses today I think to myself, "Nothing's changed!"

As a big picture thinker, I look at my family and see the ripple effects throughout the generations. Good family breeds good people. Good people make good leaders. And good leaders guide our country. The decline of America today isn't solely the fault of corrupt politicians, it's largely the fault of a broken family system rife with ever-increasing divorce rates and parents who've lost sight of a Godly vision for their families.

I know I'm not going to raise perfect kids, but by God I sure am going to try. There's an old saying that goes: "It takes a village to raise a child." Though there is some truth in that saying, there aren't many villages in today's world that I would want assisting me in raising my kids.

But I do I want as many Grants, Belyeas, and Elliots as I can find!

Keep pinchin' :-)