My Grandpa Sid’s birthday is today. However, we won’t be celebrating it. He died in 1994 from a brain aneryusm. He actually had the aneryusm seven years earlier, in 1987. As the story was told to me, one day in early October, he had a horrible headache, my grandma took him to the hospital, and he never left. He had surgery to put a shunt in his head, and when he got out of surgery, he had lost his memory. He had alzheimers. I was about to turn three, my brother was just born. I called him Poppy, because I couldn’t say papa. If I close my eyes and try really hard, I can recall just a handful of memories of him before he was in the nursing home. It’s the rest of my memories and the stories I’m told that make me miss him though.

I know he always promised me a pony when I was older. I remember one day, he sat me on the counter when he took out his dentures to clean them. For the next week I pulled at my teeth. When my mom finally asked what I was doing, I said trying to take out my teeth like Poppy.

I don’t remember the first time I visited him at the nursing home. I do remember going every week for most of my childhood. I never saw him play golf, the game he loved. I never got the chance to see him jitter bug with my mom. I don’t even remember him saying my name. He didn’t know who I was. He sometimes called me Lisa, thinking I was my mom when she was younger. It didn’t matter. I loved him anyways and looked forward to visiting with him. I’d cuff his pants so he didn’t trip and tie his tennis shoes. He’d listen to me ramble on and tell me about his day. I remember he was always so happy. He’d sit and look out the window watching golfers on the course across the street.

One day in late 1993, he fell and hit his head. The shunt in his brain moved and it was too dangerous to perform corrective surgery. He died on New Year’s Day 1994.

November 24th is usually a sad day for me. It also makes me grateful that my three other grandparents are living. Nanny still lives in St. Paul. I see her weekly and we talk much more often. My other grandparents live in Florida. I’m going to see them next week to celebrate my other Grandpa’s birthday. I’ll share those stories next week.