Remembering Grandpa

Last month I shared a post: Remembering Grandma.  Today, I remember her husband, my Grandpa Beckmann, who we lost a year ago.  I loved the emotional process of blogging about Grandma and I have just as many wonderful memories of Grandpa so I thought I'd remember Grandpa as well.

When I think of Grandpa Beckmann, I think of playing softball, playing croquet, Dairy Queen, potato wedges from the gas station, striped bib overalls, his table quotes, and the smell of the farm.

Playing Softball and Croquet

Grandma and Grandpa had a long front yard that was perfect for sports.  It was relatively flat with only a few slight dips and ridges and we loved playing softball and croquet on it.  I remember family-wide games of both in the front yard with whoever was around for the weekend.  But, when I think of softball especially, I think of Grandpa.  I remember his willingness to jump right in to pitch or bat (all while wearing his striped bib overalls) and his strong voice calling instructions or encouragement.  I even remember thinking once that his voice sounded like John Wayne's:)  *Sigh* I can feel the warm sun and breeze just thinking of a game with Grandpa.

Dairy Queen and Potato Wedges from the Gas Station

Wells, MN is a small farming town in south central Minnesota.  But, like any good Minnesota small town, it had a Dairy Queen:)  My Grandma was a wonderful cook, but it was always a fun treat to head to Dairy Queen.  And, it was always Grandpa's idea for the treat and outing (since we had to drive into town from his farm to make it happen).  As with many small towns, there were not many options for eating out.  So, one of the other things I remember doing with Grandpa was getting hot potato wedges from the gas station on the way into town.  They sold other hot food items like fried chicken and pizza, but Grandpa and I loved the potato wedges.  Thinking back on it, he probably liked the excuse that I loved them so he could get the treat too;)

Striped Bib Overalls

August 2012

This is Grandpa, exactly as I remember him: plumply filling out his striped bib overalls.  Oh how it warms my heart to think of our visit last August when he first met Nora.  Grandpa was a farmer and he dressed the part. Only later in life, after his daily farming routines had dwindled or on special occasions, did you see him in regular pants and a shirt.  I even remember asking him when I was young how he could wear his bibs in the summer when it was so hot.  His answer, while pointing to the buttons on the hips "they have built in air conditioning".  A true farmer who always sported a farmer's tan:)

His Table Quotes

As I mentioned in my blog about Grandma, we spent a lot of weekends at the farm during my childhood.  Grandpa was never short on funny little lines, but two of my favorite quotes were common while at the table.  First was his reaction to the way my mom put butter on her toast.  He'd ask, "Does that toast have an itch you need to scratch?"  He thought that butter should be slathered thickly on toast, not scratched on in small amounts (you know the sound I'm talking about:)).  The other quote I remember from Grandpa while eating some very strange combinations on his plate "It all goes to the same place".

The Smell of the Farm

The smell of the farm always makes me think of Grandpa.  It was a combination of oil, crisp outdoor breeze (like you smell in fall), dirt, and whatever animal he was last nearest (cows in the earlier years when he was milking or his beloved dog in later years after the livestock was gone).  That probably doesn't sound very pleasant, but it truly is to me.  And that smell wasn't just on Grandpa.  It was in his truck and in his favorite recliner chair.  It was Grandpa.  

All in all when I think of Grandpa, I think of a man who worked hard and enjoyed life.  He loved food, games, chatting, and laughing and he was a wonderful Grandpa to his thirteen grandchildren.  I am forever grateful that Luke knew and enjoyed time with Grandpa and I hope he will always remember "Grandpa on the farm".  I will never forget how proud Grandpa was to bring his family (the three generations resulting from him and Grandma) on the annual hayride during his final years on the farm.  

These parting picture are of Grandpa pulling us on the hayride...in all his glory.

A special memory with Luke

Always surveying the fields