I lied... one more post about Grandpa. :-)
My youngest cousin wrote and delivered the following eulogy in honor of my grandfather on the day of funeral. I asked her to send me a copy because I thought it was great. She and her brother called him Poppop; my other three cousins called him Grandpop. My brother and I called him Grandpa. But no matter what we all called him, we shared him as our grandfather.
How Do!?
Ninety-seven years is a long time and we could sit here for hours talking about Poppop and everything he did for his family and friends, but we would be here forever. Instead I am going to keep it just like him, short and sweet.
I would like to share a few things about him ~things that if you knew Poppop at all you already knew about him:
He had an eternal acceptance of everyone ~ he never judged anyone, except maybe the Phillies when they were losing ~ then they were “Bums.” He always put his family first and had an overwhelming sense of pride in his children and grandchildren and made sure he attended every single high school and college graduation. He also never once hesitated to take care of Am when she got sick.
Other than his family, his other passions included making wine and pickles, boating and fishing, classical music, history, reading, and learning. He seemed to know how to do or fix anything and everything ~ and had the tools to do it ALL. Even in his 80s he could water-ski better than most of us. And, until the age of 95, he dove into and swam in the bay every day.
We will also always remember all of the things he taught us:
How to bait a hook, how to dig for clams and mussels, drive a boat, pick crabs, use a ringer washer, a push mower, and rotary phones, and most importantly that “crabgrass is the enemy!”
Poppop was the definition of a gentleman. He put everyone’s needs before his own always making sure everyone was at ease; never complaining or wanting to make a fuss, even throughout his final days. The evening before he passed when mom and I walked into his room he said “Hi Mert!” The last sentence he said to us was “Everything is quite pleasant, Julia, thank you.”
Right now I know he is happy he is finally able to be with his wife again after twenty-six years. He is no longer weak and is looking down on all of us ~ most likely drinking his gin and riding his bicycle.
Showing posts with label Grandpa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Grandpa. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Grandpa
My grandfather died yesterday.
We, or at least I, had high hopes for some improvement when he entered the assisted living place in March 2010. However, it soon became apparent that it would simply be his last address before he went to be reunited with my grandmother. No one knew the time frame, and ultimately it didn't really matter. I just hoped that he was comfortable and that as the dementia creeped further in, that he wasn't aware of its presence.
Very soon after he moved into the home, he had to move to the locked memory unit for those with Alzheimer's and dementia. He had his own room and free reign of that unit, but the exit door to the rest of the facility was locked. Of course, I heard that his engineer-trained mind figured out the code to the door by observing others coming and going and that he either tried to or did let himself out on at least one occasion. Ornery... not hard to see where my dad gets it!
As time passed, he spent more and more time in a wheelchair; his walker used less and less. He was diagnosed with congestive heart failure and started wearing oxygen. Recently, he battled Shingles. And he celebrated his 97th birthday.
I saw him several times over the year and a half he lived there. Each time he was a little thinner and a little less in the present. But Grandpa was still in there somewhere. He knew me up until the last time I visited over Memorial Day weekend of this year, although I'm not sure that last time that he knew me until I told him who I was. He did know his three children right up to the end, and I was told he knew my brother when he went to visit last month. He had a bookshelf that my aunt kept stocked full of family photos. And there were beautiful photos of my grandmother on the walls that I had never seen before. I always asked him about some of the photos he had in his room when I visited... it was somewhat of a meter of how he was doing on that day, depending on who he knew in the pictures and what he said about them.
My aunt, uncle, and cousins live very close to the home and I believe at least one of them saw him every single day he was there. They stayed on top of his healthcare, and made sure he was getting what he needed. For that, I am pretty sure I am safe in saying our entire family is grateful.
Recently, he wasn't eating or drinking, and he was sleeping a lot. Three things that are not good signs when you are 97 years old and already under hospice care. Friday or Saturday of last week, the hospice people told my aunt that it wouldn't be long... I believe the timeframe was two weeks, give or take. Sunday, my dad, aunt, and uncle (Grandpa's children) and their spouses visited him for about four hours. I don't think he was awake at all, but I'm sure he knew they were there. I'm sure they all talked to him, and I would guess that he heard them and knew they were there to say their goodbyes. Perhaps that's what he was waiting for; he died the next morning in his sleep.
He's been gone now for about 24 hours. I am enormously sad, but I know it was for the best. And it makes me happy to imagine the joyous reunion going on with my grandmother right now. She's been patiently waiting 25 years for her love.
Saturday we will gather to say goodbye. It will be good to see all of my cousins. I don't think we've all been together since... well, I don't even know. Maybe my wedding, which was 17 years ago! I just wish it wasn't only at weddings and funerals. We will celebrate 97 years of life... more than 90 of which were of excellent quality. We will cry; we will laugh. We will be thankful for the family he built and for his giant presence in all of our lives.
But in the end, even giants fall.
“The sense of death is most in apprehension;
And the poor beetle, that we tread upon,
In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great
As when a giant dies.”
~ William Shakespeare, Measure for Measure, Act III, Scene I
We, or at least I, had high hopes for some improvement when he entered the assisted living place in March 2010. However, it soon became apparent that it would simply be his last address before he went to be reunited with my grandmother. No one knew the time frame, and ultimately it didn't really matter. I just hoped that he was comfortable and that as the dementia creeped further in, that he wasn't aware of its presence.
Very soon after he moved into the home, he had to move to the locked memory unit for those with Alzheimer's and dementia. He had his own room and free reign of that unit, but the exit door to the rest of the facility was locked. Of course, I heard that his engineer-trained mind figured out the code to the door by observing others coming and going and that he either tried to or did let himself out on at least one occasion. Ornery... not hard to see where my dad gets it!
As time passed, he spent more and more time in a wheelchair; his walker used less and less. He was diagnosed with congestive heart failure and started wearing oxygen. Recently, he battled Shingles. And he celebrated his 97th birthday.
I saw him several times over the year and a half he lived there. Each time he was a little thinner and a little less in the present. But Grandpa was still in there somewhere. He knew me up until the last time I visited over Memorial Day weekend of this year, although I'm not sure that last time that he knew me until I told him who I was. He did know his three children right up to the end, and I was told he knew my brother when he went to visit last month. He had a bookshelf that my aunt kept stocked full of family photos. And there were beautiful photos of my grandmother on the walls that I had never seen before. I always asked him about some of the photos he had in his room when I visited... it was somewhat of a meter of how he was doing on that day, depending on who he knew in the pictures and what he said about them.
My aunt, uncle, and cousins live very close to the home and I believe at least one of them saw him every single day he was there. They stayed on top of his healthcare, and made sure he was getting what he needed. For that, I am pretty sure I am safe in saying our entire family is grateful.
Recently, he wasn't eating or drinking, and he was sleeping a lot. Three things that are not good signs when you are 97 years old and already under hospice care. Friday or Saturday of last week, the hospice people told my aunt that it wouldn't be long... I believe the timeframe was two weeks, give or take. Sunday, my dad, aunt, and uncle (Grandpa's children) and their spouses visited him for about four hours. I don't think he was awake at all, but I'm sure he knew they were there. I'm sure they all talked to him, and I would guess that he heard them and knew they were there to say their goodbyes. Perhaps that's what he was waiting for; he died the next morning in his sleep.
He's been gone now for about 24 hours. I am enormously sad, but I know it was for the best. And it makes me happy to imagine the joyous reunion going on with my grandmother right now. She's been patiently waiting 25 years for her love.
Saturday we will gather to say goodbye. It will be good to see all of my cousins. I don't think we've all been together since... well, I don't even know. Maybe my wedding, which was 17 years ago! I just wish it wasn't only at weddings and funerals. We will celebrate 97 years of life... more than 90 of which were of excellent quality. We will cry; we will laugh. We will be thankful for the family he built and for his giant presence in all of our lives.
But in the end, even giants fall.
“The sense of death is most in apprehension;
And the poor beetle, that we tread upon,
In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great
As when a giant dies.”
~ William Shakespeare, Measure for Measure, Act III, Scene I
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
And they're off...
Well, just one this time. My dad is off on his annual trek to Maine with his friend and his friend's brother to volunteer at some railroad that has steam trains. They left earlier this week, and I think they actually might be going home tomorrow or Friday. This is the third or fourth year they've done the trip. Cool road trip for a bunch of train enthusiasts. :)
Thursday, March 11, 2010
90 things...
As you can tell, my grandfather is on my mind a lot this week.... Back when he turned 90 (in 1994 if I'm doing my math correctly, which is always questionable) my dad, uncle, and aunt had a big party for him. I solicited things from my aunts, uncles, and cousins... things we love about Grandpa. 90 of them. Then I laid out nice and pretty, printed them up nice, and matted and framed them. I'm not sure where that print is now... I think it's hanging at the house at the shore. Anyway, I dug up the file to share here. Apparently I didn't save the final version because there are some "xxxx" lines in here. That's very unlike me. If I stumble across the final file at some point, I'll fill in the blanks.
90 Things We Love About You
You
...are caring
...are an Eagle Scout
...can almost set a clock by your afternoon martini
...took us for walks on the hill-to-hill bridge
...passed your love of swimming onto your kids & grandkids
...are generous with your time
...love blueberry pie
...played trumpet in the Leheigh University band
...know how to waterski
...never miss remembering a birthday
...have read enough books to fill a library
...took us to watch the steam trains in Bethlehem on weekends
...always brought us cool t-shirts from your cruises
...make a mean split-pea soup
...taught me how to mow the lawn with an old-fashioned mower
You
...married Irene Fabozzi and started our family
...took us to church with you
...started going to Avalon in the 1940s
...are conservative
...gave us all a warm, happy place to celebrate Thanksgiving
...had a Model T for your first car
...xxx
...ate Grandma’s green bean casserole, even though you didn’t like it
...have always shown a loving interest & concern for your grandkids
...xxx
...always humored a certain little girl who insisted on sitting next to you at mealtime
...xxx
...cruised through the Panama Canal... twice!
...xxx
...took care of Am when she needed help
Your
...love of opera & classical music (& romantic & baroque &...)
...ongoing battle against crabgrass & weeds
...tolerance of your grandkids, great-grandkids, & “great-grandpets”
...love of books & reading
...decision to buy a house in Avalon
...ability to stay calm with chaos all around you
...plentiful garden
...hard working nature
...patience
...phrase, “I see ‘the Bums’ won/lost”
...generosity
...knack for telling a great story
...beach tag paperweights
...sense of humor
...“magic teeth”
...love of history
...xxx
...ability to eat blueberry pie for three meals a day
...interest in fixing things around the house(s)
...love of crossword puzzles
...morals
...fabulous memory
...sense of fairness
...love of hot peppers
...appreciation of learning
...attendance at countless plays, musicals, concerts, & sports events
...devotion to scouting ideals
...xxx
...acceptance of all of our animals
...intelligence
You
...still ride your bike into town for the paper
...sat for hours at the kitchen table picking crabs with Grandma
...once pulled the boat back to the house after turning it over while skiing
...have always welcomed us into your home(s)
...showed us Christmas lights the day after Thanksgiving
...shared with me your love of the sea
...taught me to be handy
...lived in Kentucky as a child
...were the first generation of Leheigh men in our family
...used to keep a boat in Norristown during the summer to go skiing on the Schuykill River
...showed me how to be inventive
...took us for walks in all kinds of weather
...never laughed at the kid who got sick everytime he went on the boat
...hang your clothes out on the line to dry
...have affectionate nicknames for people
You
...taught me to be self-sufficient
...once punched a hammerhead shark in the head
...taught me to be frugal
...water-skiied longer than most people would
...camped with us when we were scouts
...are pious
...instilled the principles of hard work, sincerity, and kindness in our parents,
which they, in turn, passed on to us
...have an electrical engineering degree
...are more active in a day than some people are in a week
...helped us all discover the seven seas... or at least the bay and the inlet that to a child was a whole new world
...helped keep the power on during WWII
...taught us about making wine
...show us how to read and fold a map
...still make dill pickles every summer
...love us and listen to us, no matter how busy we all get
A little odd to look at this photo (from the 90th birthday party) now... one cousin's now-wife was there, but chose not to be in the photo. One cousin's then-girlfriend is no longer in the picture (no pun intended); maybe we can photoshop in his current girlfriend of several years because she rocks! One cousin's then-wife is not anymore. And my brother's wife is not in this picture, either. I guess she wasn't there, but I don't remember why.
90 Things We Love About You
You
...are caring
...are an Eagle Scout
...can almost set a clock by your afternoon martini
...took us for walks on the hill-to-hill bridge
...passed your love of swimming onto your kids & grandkids
...are generous with your time
...love blueberry pie
...played trumpet in the Leheigh University band
...know how to waterski
...never miss remembering a birthday
...have read enough books to fill a library
...took us to watch the steam trains in Bethlehem on weekends
...always brought us cool t-shirts from your cruises
...make a mean split-pea soup
...taught me how to mow the lawn with an old-fashioned mower
You
...married Irene Fabozzi and started our family
...took us to church with you
...started going to Avalon in the 1940s
...are conservative
...gave us all a warm, happy place to celebrate Thanksgiving
...had a Model T for your first car
...xxx
...ate Grandma’s green bean casserole, even though you didn’t like it
...have always shown a loving interest & concern for your grandkids
...xxx
...always humored a certain little girl who insisted on sitting next to you at mealtime
...xxx
...cruised through the Panama Canal... twice!
...xxx
...took care of Am when she needed help
Your
...love of opera & classical music (& romantic & baroque &...)
...ongoing battle against crabgrass & weeds
...tolerance of your grandkids, great-grandkids, & “great-grandpets”
...love of books & reading
...decision to buy a house in Avalon
...ability to stay calm with chaos all around you
...plentiful garden
...hard working nature
...patience
...phrase, “I see ‘the Bums’ won/lost”
...generosity
...knack for telling a great story
...beach tag paperweights
...sense of humor
...“magic teeth”
...love of history
...xxx
...ability to eat blueberry pie for three meals a day
...interest in fixing things around the house(s)
...love of crossword puzzles
...morals
...fabulous memory
...sense of fairness
...love of hot peppers
...appreciation of learning
...attendance at countless plays, musicals, concerts, & sports events
...devotion to scouting ideals
...xxx
...acceptance of all of our animals
...intelligence
You
...still ride your bike into town for the paper
...sat for hours at the kitchen table picking crabs with Grandma
...once pulled the boat back to the house after turning it over while skiing
...have always welcomed us into your home(s)
...showed us Christmas lights the day after Thanksgiving
...shared with me your love of the sea
...taught me to be handy
...lived in Kentucky as a child
...were the first generation of Leheigh men in our family
...used to keep a boat in Norristown during the summer to go skiing on the Schuykill River
...showed me how to be inventive
...took us for walks in all kinds of weather
...never laughed at the kid who got sick everytime he went on the boat
...hang your clothes out on the line to dry
...have affectionate nicknames for people
You
...taught me to be self-sufficient
...once punched a hammerhead shark in the head
...taught me to be frugal
...water-skiied longer than most people would
...camped with us when we were scouts
...are pious
...instilled the principles of hard work, sincerity, and kindness in our parents,
which they, in turn, passed on to us
...have an electrical engineering degree
...are more active in a day than some people are in a week
...helped us all discover the seven seas... or at least the bay and the inlet that to a child was a whole new world
...helped keep the power on during WWII
...taught us about making wine
...show us how to read and fold a map
...still make dill pickles every summer
...love us and listen to us, no matter how busy we all get
A little odd to look at this photo (from the 90th birthday party) now... one cousin's now-wife was there, but chose not to be in the photo. One cousin's then-girlfriend is no longer in the picture (no pun intended); maybe we can photoshop in his current girlfriend of several years because she rocks! One cousin's then-wife is not anymore. And my brother's wife is not in this picture, either. I guess she wasn't there, but I don't remember why.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Of giants...
My Grandpa was a giant.
Not a giant in terms of size. Certainly not. If anything, he was and is probably a little shorter than average. Especially now. No, he was a giant in that through my young eyes, he was amazing.
I have a brother and five cousins, making Grandpa a seven-time grandfather (and a three-time great-grandfather to boot). I was first and my youngest cousin is the only other girl--with five boys and more than ten years between. I'm sure we all have different memories, so I can only share mine.
Grandpa was somewhat of a study in contrasts. Strong, yet gentle. Intimidating, yet kind. Active, yet passive. Brilliant, yet down-to-earth. Tough, yet humorous.
I vivedly remember jockeying to sit next to him at family dinners--large and small... mostly small as I was relegated to the kids' table for large family dinners. I don't know what was so special about sitting next to Grandpa at dinner, but it was a HUGE deal to this little girl! Perhaps it stemmed from him "saving my life" when I was a mere tyke. You see, I was on the dock with Grandpa and I picked up the end of a coiled piece of rope and started walking backward. Problem was, the rope wasn't attached to anything. While Grandpa was pulling up the crab trap, I backed right off the other end of the dock. Upon hearing the splash, he came over and plucked me out. No harm done. Almost 40 years later, I still love the water. But Grandma had a conniption, and I'm quite certain Grandpa never heard the end of it. It's still an oft-told and laughed about story in my family.
After Grandma died in 1986, I mostly saw Grandpa at the shore. He started his day with a swim in the bay and followed it up with coffee, two fried eggs, and toast. Every day. During the day he kept busy with a seemingly endless variety of activies fit for an active retiree and widower living at the shore: tending to his garden, sitting in his yard waging battle against the crabgrass, rowing to the little island in the bay to check his mussel traps, scrubbing barnacles from the bottom of the boat, pulling up and checking the crab traps on the dock, reading, listening to his opera music, riding his bike into town for the newspaper...
There was ALWAYS a book within his reach, and he has probably read a large percentage of the books at the local library. I remember how excited he was when the library at the shore was enlarged. More books! His passion for reading has been passed to his children and on to at least some of his grandchildren. I know my brother and I are both avid readers, and his great-grandchildren all love to read, as well. Not a bad trait to pass along.
When I was in middle school, my dad and my grandfather tried to teach my brother and me to waterski. For my part, it was a disaster. The one time I actually got up on the skis, I did a face plant right into the water. But Grandpa skied that day. And he was in his 70s!
As the years went by, there was a diagnosis of (and recovery from) prostate cancer, less weeding, a smaller garden, no more mussel and crab harvesting, and less boat scrubbing. He dropped the morning swim. The crab grass won. The print in the books got larger, and the bike rides to town became less frequent as he battled balance issues.
But still he swam every afternoon. And every afternoon, he had his gin and tonic.
Over the past five or so years, there has been decline--quite noticeable to me because I, unfortunately, see him only twice a year. Less presence in conversation, greater memory of the past than the present, weight loss, more issues with balance, cataract surgery, forgotten names here and there. Normal for people in their ninth decade. Not normal for giants.
His days began to revolve around his favorite chair... the one from which he could look out over the bay, hold court over those gathered in the living room, and see who was coming up from downstairs. He still enjoyed reading and listening to his operas. But there was significantly less activity. For safety reasons (and probably not necessarily by his own choice), he went out in the boat only when someone took him and swam only when someone swam with him.
Today Grandpa moved into an apartment in an assisted living facility.
At 95, he is but a shadow of once giant self.
Today, he has good days and bad days.
On his good days he is the same engaging, inquisitive, engineering-minded Grandpa from my youth. The one who had an answer to any question an adoring grandchild could come up with. The one who would take his teeth out for the tenth time that day just because it fascinated those same silly grandchildren. The one who was quick to tell his grandchildren to "keep it down," and just as quick to tease his great-grandchildren years later by pretending not to know their names and calling them "Charlie," "Jake," and whatever else came to mind, much to their giggling amusement.
On his bad days he is confused, angry, ornery, and at times even belligerent.
Today, from what I'm told, the bad days outnumber the good ones.
Today, I hope that with the assistance he'll receive going forward, the good days will soon, once again, outnumber the bad.
Today, I am excited about the many opportunities he will have for socialization, activities, and learning in his new home... and I hope he will be able to take advantage of those opportunities.
Today, I know he will be safer in his new home than he was in either of the homes he has lived in for most of his adult life.
Today, I think my family is comforted by the fact that he is in a safe environment and help is a few steps away should he need it.
Today, perhaps the shadow shrunk just a little and the giant gained back some of his lost strength.
I really hope the caregivers at Grandpa's new home have training in the care and feeding of giants!
Not a giant in terms of size. Certainly not. If anything, he was and is probably a little shorter than average. Especially now. No, he was a giant in that through my young eyes, he was amazing.
I have a brother and five cousins, making Grandpa a seven-time grandfather (and a three-time great-grandfather to boot). I was first and my youngest cousin is the only other girl--with five boys and more than ten years between. I'm sure we all have different memories, so I can only share mine.
Grandpa was somewhat of a study in contrasts. Strong, yet gentle. Intimidating, yet kind. Active, yet passive. Brilliant, yet down-to-earth. Tough, yet humorous.
I vivedly remember jockeying to sit next to him at family dinners--large and small... mostly small as I was relegated to the kids' table for large family dinners. I don't know what was so special about sitting next to Grandpa at dinner, but it was a HUGE deal to this little girl! Perhaps it stemmed from him "saving my life" when I was a mere tyke. You see, I was on the dock with Grandpa and I picked up the end of a coiled piece of rope and started walking backward. Problem was, the rope wasn't attached to anything. While Grandpa was pulling up the crab trap, I backed right off the other end of the dock. Upon hearing the splash, he came over and plucked me out. No harm done. Almost 40 years later, I still love the water. But Grandma had a conniption, and I'm quite certain Grandpa never heard the end of it. It's still an oft-told and laughed about story in my family.
After Grandma died in 1986, I mostly saw Grandpa at the shore. He started his day with a swim in the bay and followed it up with coffee, two fried eggs, and toast. Every day. During the day he kept busy with a seemingly endless variety of activies fit for an active retiree and widower living at the shore: tending to his garden, sitting in his yard waging battle against the crabgrass, rowing to the little island in the bay to check his mussel traps, scrubbing barnacles from the bottom of the boat, pulling up and checking the crab traps on the dock, reading, listening to his opera music, riding his bike into town for the newspaper...
There was ALWAYS a book within his reach, and he has probably read a large percentage of the books at the local library. I remember how excited he was when the library at the shore was enlarged. More books! His passion for reading has been passed to his children and on to at least some of his grandchildren. I know my brother and I are both avid readers, and his great-grandchildren all love to read, as well. Not a bad trait to pass along.
When I was in middle school, my dad and my grandfather tried to teach my brother and me to waterski. For my part, it was a disaster. The one time I actually got up on the skis, I did a face plant right into the water. But Grandpa skied that day. And he was in his 70s!
As the years went by, there was a diagnosis of (and recovery from) prostate cancer, less weeding, a smaller garden, no more mussel and crab harvesting, and less boat scrubbing. He dropped the morning swim. The crab grass won. The print in the books got larger, and the bike rides to town became less frequent as he battled balance issues.
But still he swam every afternoon. And every afternoon, he had his gin and tonic.
Over the past five or so years, there has been decline--quite noticeable to me because I, unfortunately, see him only twice a year. Less presence in conversation, greater memory of the past than the present, weight loss, more issues with balance, cataract surgery, forgotten names here and there. Normal for people in their ninth decade. Not normal for giants.
His days began to revolve around his favorite chair... the one from which he could look out over the bay, hold court over those gathered in the living room, and see who was coming up from downstairs. He still enjoyed reading and listening to his operas. But there was significantly less activity. For safety reasons (and probably not necessarily by his own choice), he went out in the boat only when someone took him and swam only when someone swam with him.
Today Grandpa moved into an apartment in an assisted living facility.
At 95, he is but a shadow of once giant self.
Today, he has good days and bad days.
On his good days he is the same engaging, inquisitive, engineering-minded Grandpa from my youth. The one who had an answer to any question an adoring grandchild could come up with. The one who would take his teeth out for the tenth time that day just because it fascinated those same silly grandchildren. The one who was quick to tell his grandchildren to "keep it down," and just as quick to tease his great-grandchildren years later by pretending not to know their names and calling them "Charlie," "Jake," and whatever else came to mind, much to their giggling amusement.
On his bad days he is confused, angry, ornery, and at times even belligerent.
Today, from what I'm told, the bad days outnumber the good ones.
Today, I hope that with the assistance he'll receive going forward, the good days will soon, once again, outnumber the bad.
Today, I am excited about the many opportunities he will have for socialization, activities, and learning in his new home... and I hope he will be able to take advantage of those opportunities.
Today, I know he will be safer in his new home than he was in either of the homes he has lived in for most of his adult life.
Today, I think my family is comforted by the fact that he is in a safe environment and help is a few steps away should he need it.
Today, perhaps the shadow shrunk just a little and the giant gained back some of his lost strength.
I really hope the caregivers at Grandpa's new home have training in the care and feeding of giants!
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