Farewell to an Amazing Grandpa

My Grandpa Fisher passed away and it's gotten my thinking in the way that the passing of amazing people should.  Really, it's been a long time since I really felt the need to use the term "passed away" instead of "died", but I remember now why "passing away" is such a comforting term.  My grandpa died peacefully in his home, and while it was unexpected, I am so happy he was with his wife in a place he could call home.  There is a big piece of me that feels regret for not taking more advantage of the time I had with him, but the largest part of me is grateful for the time I had.  After I got off the phone with my mom I was a little weepy, but immediately went in search of this picture, because it embodies pretty much every memory I have of my grandpa:

My grandpa was a story teller.  Every time I saw him he had a different story to tell.  It made it so every time I saw my grandpa I learned something new about him. Really.  The last time I saw Grandpa Fisher was his 90th birthday celebration, where I learned he dabbled in geology.  Seriously.  In 29 years of chatting, Grandpa's interest in mining hadn't come up because there was so many other interesting things he had done that we could talk about.  I can't be too sad about the things I didn't get to hear, because Grandpa had 6 kids and I don't even know how many grandkids.  I'm really looking forward to hearing what they remember.  I'm looking forward to talking to my dad, who used to go watch basketball games with Grandpa and chat about computers and who knows what.  I'm looking forward to talking to Aunt LM, who visited my grandparents on their mission (where she met her husband).  My sister, Liz, also has some great insights because she spent her summers chilling with Grandpa and Grandma while they were enjoying their retirement in the middle of nowhere.  And I'm dying to chat with my mom, who experienced so many terrifying vacations in a Motor-Home with Grandpa behind the wheel, learning about the country at 90 miles per hour.
Until then, I'll be reliving my happy memories of Grandpa.  Here are the highlights:

1.  Singing, especially The Piggy Song.  Grandpa lived a few blocks away from us for a few months of my teenage years, when Courtney and my cousin Sabrina were quite small.  I remember him sitting down with them and singing his version of "This little piggy when to market.  This little piggy staying home.  This little piggy was an boogy woogy piggy and boogy woogy piggled all the way the home."  If any one can supplement the lyrics that I've forgotten, I would love it.
My mom has also told us about thinking that Grandpa had written a song about her, MaryAnn.  It might have been childhood trust, but I think it was the convincing nature of his singing that made my Mom think the his MaryAnn song was about her.

2.  A flare for education.  It's been said that Grandpa doesn't like having a boss, but he loves working, and I definitely agree with that.  I chatted with Grandpa while I was getting a degree in wildlife and he talked about his experience travelling the globe with the Air Force and seeing the different biological communities around the Mediterranean Sea, the Philippines, Illinois...  He'd seen and really SEEN a lot of things.  When I got a Master's degree in water policy I found he had served on a county Water Board and still enjoyed talking about Prior Appropriation water law.  When he heard I was getting a PhD in Ecology he told me "I wish I had gotten more education.  I started studying geology, but the mine boss could pay me more to work rather than go to school, so I learned as much about geology as I could looking over the mine."  And I can only imagine what he learned about geology overlooking mines, because he had such a sharp mind.  My dad almost always spent time working on computers with Grandpa when we went to visit, and from what I could overhear, it was just as much learning and troubleshooting.  (And on a very selfish note, it is so great to have people supporting your education goals, at very dark times in this PhD journey, knowing Grandpa thought I was doing something worthwhile meant so much it actually produced a physical response, I had to hug him.)

3.  A Life Long Love. Grandpa was married to my Grandma until she passed, which was more than 10 years ago (maybe even 15, I can't quite figure it out right now). He's been married to Grandma Elaine since 2000 (?).  He knows how to commit and make it work.  Up until today, thinking about older couples living alone was the saddest thing I could imagine (really, just ask Brent about how much I cry in sad movies with old people, I cry a lot) because I always thought about Grandpa Fisher and Grandma Elaine and the Loves they have lost.  While I am very sad for Grandma Elaine, who has seen the death of 3 husbands, I am so happy that Grandpa may be reunited with Grandma in whatever afterlife exists.  Beyond this distance and sadness, the love I got to witness between my grandma and grandpa while they were both alive will stay with me forever.  My grandma had rheumatoid arthritis for much of her life, and it looked like Grandpa rolled with it really well, learning how to dress her, and what part of her appearance really mattered to her. Listening to their back-and-forth as they negotiated their way up my parent's home stairs was one of my favorite things, because they had it down packed if they were going to make it up they made it up, if they were going to stay in the car, we met them at the car.  And his sorrow when she died has been breaking my heart for 15 years now (she died when I was 14 or 15).  I remember the way he wouldn't follow her casket out of the church, and I don't know his reasoning, but I like to think it was because he preferred to remember her alive rather than in a casket.  What I remember the most is his distress while Grandma was in the hospital, feeling terrible because she was in pain and he couldn't stop it.  I could see his love evident in his pain, he would rather let his wife go than see her attached to ventilators and IV tubes struggling for breathe.

That there is really the most comforting portion of the death of my grandparents.  They are no longer alone.  They are with the people they married in the 1940s looking down on their progeny and laughing at our hilarity (that's what heaven is for me, lots of laughter).

So, if any of you have memories of Grandpa Fisher you would like to share, please tell me.  I'm so ready to hear about all the awesome things Grandpa or Grandma did that I haven't heard about yet.

And Grandpa, Grandma, if you're intercepting the Interwebs from your place, know that I love you.  So much.  I love the memories I have of you and I love the family you've raised that will keep those memories alive.

Update #1  - an amazing picture my sister Alex drew of Grandpa

Update #2 - an amazing picture my sister Courtney had of Grandpa with her and our cousin Sabrina