With a day full ahead of visiting the grandparents, Andrew, Jess, Dana and I set out by fueling both the Taurus (with petrol) and ourselves (with Starbucks coffee and Def Leppard’s Hysteria), then headed south on I-71. There was much chatter and more fine music (They Might Be Giants, Violent Femmes, Weezer) as we cut a path diagonally across the state, over a river or two, through woods, with a brief stop in Bucyrus at Wal-Mart for a restroom break and the purchase of a small bouquet of yellow roses for Grandma, which was totally the ladies’ idea, but a good one.
Grandma recently moved into an assisted living facility and I was imagining something depressing, with the scent of urine. But the place is quite fine. We agreed it’s nicer than our own apartments: she has two bedrooms, kitchen, bath, living room, balcony, and all of her comforts of home, as most of the decor and furniture was moved over from her house.
Lunch was served in a cozy common area downstairs with wood tables and chairs, a fireplace, and there were friendly staff members stringing lights on a Christmas tree. The fare was served up cafeteria style and nothing fabulous (the pizza I had whisked me back momentarily to high school), but at $3 per guest meal, I could hardly complain; plus, the price included tapioca pudding. Importantly, Grandma knows many of the other residents, whether because they’re friends or relatives (it’s a small town) or just because she’s a cordial lady. She was saying hello to many, and showing off us kids, which is a top duty of any grandparent. Back at her place, we caught up on our lives and Dana showcased her photos from Ireland on her laptop.
One of my uncles and his family stopped by and it would have been nice to speak with them longer, particularly to find out what my cousins have been up to lately, but it was time to bid farewell and head up north to Toledo.
Grandpa’s doing well for a 92-year-old. He’s unsteady when walking now and uses a cane, which inspired some of his oft-made grumbles about not being able to do all the stuff he used to, like rebuild transmissions and saw down trees and stuff. But he’s got a house full of youth to rub off on him. Living with Grandpa are my uncle Doug and his lady Sandy, who recently added another child to the group, Mason. He’s quite the cute tot, depicted here curious as to how my camera works. I let him play around with it but he was more interested in poking the lens than taking any snapshots.
Like his two-year-old brother, Dustin, it took Mason a spell to warm up to us strangers, but once he did, he was in high spirits, all smiles as he rotated around on the floor (he hasn’t yet mastered crawling), performed an amusing jig while seated and generally acted like World’s Best Baby.
Doug, who was spraying cellulose attic insulation all over the upper floor of the house and himself, stopped by the living room for a few guest appearances, often wearing a gas mask to prevent too much shredded newspaper from entering his respiratory system. We got a tour of another cost-saving energy invention of his: heating the house using a wood burning stove outside, which is connected by underground pipes to a heat-dispersion system in his basement that was crafted of complicated piping, a modified window fan and what appeared to be some car parts.