Grandpa’s Lessons

I was always quite fascinated by my maternal grandfather, Angus T. Lochhead, Jr.  I often think of his great smile and enthusiastic nature.  He had so many different hobbies and interests, like skiing, speed skating, cycling, camping, stargazing, origami, and leather-working, to name a few. He made granola, strawberry preserves, and whole wheat bread. Grandpa was in the vanilla business and delighted us with his hand-cranked ice cream as he tried out various blends of vanilla extracts.   He played the bagpipes and could whistle through his teeth.

 To me, Angus was a devoted grandfather who loved to be with his grandkids.  He always taught us something, like how to build a campfire or a reflector oven, how to ice skate, how to roast peanuts, or where to look for the constellations in the night sky.  He read us stories like Uncle Wiggly, Wee Gillis, and The Hole Book.

Grandpa surprised me one spring morning by coming to our house before I went to school. I was riding a bike with training wheels, but Grandpa announced that he was going to teach me how to ride without training wheels.  I was excited but really scared!  I can still see the scene in my mind as he ran up and down the street with me, holding onto the seat of my bike.  All of a sudden, I realized he had let go and I was riding solo—and I got scared and landed on the pavement.  Through tears, as I held my skinned knees, I told him I wanted to go home.  But Grandpa had no intention of letting me quit and made me get right back on the bike.  Startled by his response, and realizing failure wasn’t an option, I dutifully got back on and tried again.  After a few more tries I got it!  I was so proud to be able to ride my bike back home all by myself, just in time to go to school.

Grandpa loved me enough to teach me not to give up when things seem scary or hard.  Getting back on that bike after a big fall was hard.  Other times, on the ice rink, he had me get up and skate again and again after my many falls, even though I was cold and tired and my ankles hurt.  He had confidence in me.  When I was a young teenager he took me with him to a small town in southern Illinois on a speaking assignment for our church.  Partway there he announced that I would be his companion speaker.  I was horrified!  I had nothing prepared.  He told me all I needed to do was to tell a scripture story and share my feelings about Jesus and His gospel.  Again, I knew he was serious and that I couldn’t get out of it.  So I timidly addressed the small congregation and learned a great lesson—that when we do our best, God will help us do the rest.  My self–confidence and my love for God grew even stronger that day, thanks to my grandfather’s tutoring. 

Grandpa died when I was thirteen.  He was only 57 years old— nearly the same age I am today.   Looking back, I marvel at all he taught me, as well as my siblings and cousins.  He was a deliberate teacher, and I knew he loved me. I have such happy memories of him and wish my husband and children could have known him.  Someday they’ll get to meet him in heaven, and it will be a great event. I look forward to thanking him for being such an exceptional grandfather.  Until then, I can show my gratitude by trying to be the best grandmother I can be.  

Becky