Happy Birthday, Grandpa

Today, January 7th, a fantastic person was born. In 1924, my Grandpa Sy was born and, the world would never be the same.

He went to Stanford for college. He got drafted a few days after his 18th birthday to serve in WWII. And he did, on the front lines, in tanks. He married his soulmate and had a happy life.

My Grandpa said my Grandma B was the worst pen pal ever. Yet they wouldn't even meet until my Grandpa returned from war. :)

My Grandpa's Dad, my Great Grandpa, opened up a liquor store in downtown Manhattan. Jackie Kennedy and other celebs were known to come by the store. My Great Grandpa sold the shop to my Grandpa, and he made the shop a profitable place. My parents both worked there in their teenage/young adult years.

My Grandpa didn't want my Dad to have the hardships with the shop that he did, so he wouldn't sell the shop to my Dad. My Dad was okay with this.

My Grandpa is the one that taught me how to ride a bike and was the first one to cheer me on when I could.

My grandparents would come over and "babysit" my siblings and I if we were home sick from school. My parents would say what we could and couldn't have to eat. But every.single.time. my grandparents came to watch one of us? They went and got us happy meals for lunch. My parents just found this out at my Grandma's funeral in September.

My Grandpa used to let me paint his nails with my tinkerbell nail polish when I was little. I'd see him again the next day and the nail polish was gone. Apparently, you could peel it off. My Grandpa just said he needed me to paint his nails again. :)

My Grandpa helped teach me to read and said one day I'd be as good a reader as my older sister and brother. And it's true. I am, now.

My Grandparents are the ones that would quiz me on random words to practice my spelling throughout elementary and middle school. It was over the phone, because we lived in Virginia by this time.

My Grandpa is the one that got me interested in History. He passed it down to my Dad, who also passed it down to me.

My Grandpa LOVED the Yankees. Maybe loved is an understatement. He passed that love down to my Dad, who passed it down to me.

As my Grandpa got older, his hearing started diminishing. But, he still listened to his radio daily. He wanted to stay informed on the happenings of the world, as well as his beloved Yankees.

He always knew what was going on before I did. And I'm a social studies teacher. I was always so impressed with my Grandparents. Always.

I could add so many more stories. About my Grandpa's massive library. His collection of glass bottles with ships in them. (which he told me he made, but he was kidding.. But I didn't know he was kidding. So, I found out he didn't in fact, make the ships-in-a-bottle until after he passed away. Ha!) I could tell you how my Grandparents always told me I was a fantastic teacher and that they knew my students were lucky to have me.

And how, the one thing my Grandpa wanted read at his funeral, was an essay I wrote about him in 2001, explaining why he was my hero, so I could win a scholarship.

I won the scholarship.

My heart is heavy today. But, I have made a donation to The Wounded Warriors in my Grandpa's memory, and I will continue to do so on his birthday.

It's the least I can do to honor such a fantastic man I was honored to be able to call Grandpa.

I love you and miss you more than words can express, Grandpa.

Happy Birthday to one of my biggest cheerleaders.

And my hero.

my Grandpa and Dad, circa 1954