Grandpa Sets 'Em Straight

Over 50, Still Kickin'

Grandpa was the no-nonsense type. He had emigrated from Germany in the 1920's and had come to America, hoping to stay a few steps ahead of starvation. Leaving your entire family behind and avoiding starvation are not trivial items on the calendar, so he didn't have a whole lot of sympathy for the rest of us whining over minor problems. I guess he figured that if he could make changes of that magnitude, succeed in a whole new culture, and manage to be happy to boot, he must be an authority on living well – and he liked to see other people live well along with him.

Grandpa worked as a cabinetmaker and all-around fix-it man at the local hospital for fifty years. By the time he was nearing retirement, he felt like he owned the place, and he didn't mind dispensing a little medical advice to the patients when he felt it was in order to do so. One of his favorite stories was about a woman with severe depression problems and how he cured her. I'd like to tell it the way he would have:

I remember vhen I still verked at da hospital, and I vas painting on da psych floor. I vas valking t'rough vit' my ladder, and dere vas dis voman, and she vas cryin' and cryin', see? (Grandpa pointed his cigar at us for emphasis.) I never heard such a squallin' goin' on! And I says to her, "Vhat's da matta vit' you?"

And she starts a-wringin' her hands. "Oh, I am so sad! Everyt'ing's goin' all wrong! Da Good Lord must not love me!" (Grandpa would tell it in a falsetto, complete with sobs.)

And I says to her, "Vell, do you hurt somevhere? Is yer body sick?" And she says no. And I says to her, "Ya got a good husband?" And she says yes. "Does he put food on da table?" Yes. "Does he beat you?" No. "Does he run around vit' otter vimmen?" No. And da light's beginnin' to dawn, see.

So, I says to her, "Ya got kids?" And she says yes. "Are dey all healt'y?" And she says yes.

So, I says to her, "Vell, vhat ya cryin' about den? You got nottin' to cry about! You jes' need to set up and stop feelin' sorry fer yerself, and count yer blessings. Dat's vhat you need to do!"

And she stopped her snifflin' right den and dere.

(Here Grandpa liked to stop for emphasis, shake his cigar at us, and give us a knowing nod before he continued.) "And da next day she vent home from da hospital." (He sat back with a satisfied smile on his face.)

Grandpa dished out his own brand of encouragement in various ways until the day he died. He took life as it came in his stoic way, and felt it was his God-given mission to bring calm and reason to the arm-flapping panic attacks going on around him. Some of us didn't appreciate his unasked-for opinions, but his stories continue to make us laugh as we remember, from time to time, the wise man who knew how to be happy.

Over 50, Still Kickin'