“Everybody hop in,” my Dad states as he unlocks the doors of our rust colored Caprice Classic Station Wagon.
“Do you think Grandpa would want to sit in the way back with me this time,” questions my brother.
We all begin to smirk as we envision our grandfather, in his late sixties, sitting in the rear-facing third seat.
“You can ask him,” my mother replies.
But, we all assume that he will definitely respond with a “Hell No!”
As my father pulls up to my grandfather’s split entry house on the top of the hill, we can see that Grandpa is ready and waiting for us. He walks towards our car with a spring in his step. Since my grandmother passed away a few years earlier, our Sunday car rides are something he looks forward to and today is no different.
“Grandpa, do you want to ride in the back with me?” my brother asks.
We all hold our breath awaiting his reply.
“Sure,” he says.
He climbs right in and positions himself on the seat next to my brother. My mother asks if he is comfortable. He is either a good liar or he really is fine, because he tells her that he is. He and my brother face backwards, looking at all that is now behind us.
“Where would you like to go today?” my father inquires.
“Do you know any routes that will take us by an ice cream stand? My treat!” Grandpa replies.
While I do not recall the exact route we travelled that day, I do remember going to visit my grandmother’s grave at the cemetery. I also remember my brother teaching my grandfather how to get a trucker to honk his horn as the eighteen wheeler passed by us on the highway. And of course, I recall stopping for ice cream on the way home.
My grandfather passed away 23 years ago today. I can still recall him riding in the back of our family station wagon as if it were yesterday and not 40 years ago.
Sometimes in life, it is the simplest memories that last the longest.
What is one fond memory that you have of your grandparents?