Being Opa

I wonder as he wanders

Posted on by kwundrow

My grandson, Jackson, is now four years old and is into his “why” years.  To his credit he generally accepts your answer to his why question fairly gracefully.  He may follow the first why with several additional whys but he is usually satisfied within three or four.  Jackson is observant and is constantly checking out everything as to how it works.  I have stepped into my role as Opa and have taken him on excursions to discover new things.  Along the way, Jackson has become very fond of Home Depot.  Before I wander further, I must compliment Home Depot on the clever marketing trick that they have developed to lure in unsuspecting grandpas with their grandchildren.  Every other Saturday or so they offer a free “build it” class for kids.  They cordon off an area in the lumber aisle and the kids get a complimentary craft kit and are able to assemble and paint their project.  Now how can they afford all those free precut kits and paint supplies you ask?  Let’s put it this way, I have yet to leave the store on one of these “free” days without $100 to $200 worth of goods.  I guess they saw me coming because those end caps as they are called, are just beckoning with all those shiny tools I never knew I needed but certainly couldn’t live without.

Into this very inviting space comes Jackson.  A typical trip to Home Depot will last upwards of two hours.  Now this makes his parents and Mimi quite happy as it allows them two uninterrupted hours to catch their breath, though that generally ends up being spent chasing our one-year-old granddaughter Adela, around the house as she now has their undivided attention.  Meanwhile Jackson is wandering.  We must open, walk through, and close every entry door in the home exterior section.  This of course means that we must also explore, until satisfied, how each storm window opens, closes and locks.  Chalk up most of our first hour.

Hour number two finds us in the appliance and kitchen area.  It is at this point that I begin my wondering.  Jackson is most fascinated with refrigerators.  And what man, young or old, wouldn’t be?  Dish washers, clothes dryers, washers, merely utilitarian, but refrigerators, or fridges as we men call them, are works of art.  They used to just keep things cold, period.  Not anymore.  They are divided into zones of coldness because no one wants meat at the same temperature as their lettuce and that would be nowhere near the perfect temperature for milk and wine.  Yes I said wine.  But that is just the tip of the iceberg lettuce.  They have see through doors that light up at the Sheldon like three raps (reference Big Bang Theory).   And that door has a compartment within the door!  Believe me when I tell you Jackson marvels at that feature.  He tells me immediately that the “door in a door” invention is just for him and his supply of juice boxes, you know, the ones that squirt all over when you try to insert the straw.  Those boxes, but that’s another story for some other time.  I digress.

Had enough?  But wait, there’s more.  The really “cool” fridges have computers built in.  They will track your every move and then make your grocery list for you.  No more secret snacking after midnight guys.  That list is then sent to your cell phone.  Throw in a linked Alexa or Siri, and you have the beginnings of an appliance conspiracy.  I suspect they might even have their own Facebook page where they report on and laugh about their owners.  There’s probably a camera hidden in that door within the door.  Don’t believe me?  Search “my refrigerator” on your Facebook page and see if it agrees to accept your friend request.

After a thorough examination of every one of these refrigerators, Jackson tells me he is adding the one with the most impressive engineering to “his list”.  Now I am wondering just how serious is this list?  We move on to the stoves.  Not much time needed here, I suspect he likes eating the food more than preparing it.  I will let his Aunt Kat and Eli work on the development of that talent.  Within minutes, Jackson has decided on the grill top gas grill.  He is particularly fascinated with the nobs he can push in or pull out. We decide on the shiniest model and add it to his now growing list.  French style entry doors, crank out storm windows, a $5400 refrigerator with all the bells and whistles and a four burner grill top gas stove now adorn “the list”.

On to the cabinets.  And again guys, amazing innovations for you manly organizers out there.  In no time flat we are on a quest to verify which cabinets and cupboards are fitted with self-closing drawers.  Apparently it has come to the attention of kitchen designers that we are running out of our kitchens without remembering, or taking the time I guess, to shut the drawers and close the doors.  Jackson tells me that “his cabinets” MUST have these self-closers or they are not making “the list”.  We have almost isolated the winner when we discover two not to be without features.  Wait for it ……. ultimate in convenience and organization, the toe kick hidden flat pan drawer and the pull out, wire framed organizer, drop-down upper cabinet.  The entire innards float effortlessly down to the countertop where Jackson declares “there’s where my fruit snack packs go.”  And these, of course, have now been added to the list.

In the course of our two-hour adventure, Jackson’s description, I have staved off several persistent floor sales reps, visited almost every section and aisle and if his parents fulfill his list, will have spent somewhere in the vicinity of $40,000 on Jackson’s house.  Way to go Home Depot.  We head for the front to escape and then head to McDonald’s to discuss the details of our finds and of course, to get our happy meal and toy.

And so, I wonder?  Will Jackson become a designer?  Or maybe an engineer?  One of the store reps, after watching him carefully study the icemakers, suggested he consider being a plumber as they make so much more than engineers, her belief not necessarily mine and apologies to both careers.  Maybe he will write for a consumer magazine.  No matter what Jackson decides, I am amazed at watching the inquisitive mind of a four-year-old boy at work and humbled at his ability to figure out the technology and mechanics by simple observations.  I am sure that if we just encourage the curiosity of our children and grandchildren, the future is bright for a never-ending evolution of new and creative conveniences.

And now it’s time to visit an electronics store.  Oh God.  Thank you Jackson for letting me wonder as you wandered.

Sugar Sandwich

Posted on by kwundrow

Disclaimer, my siblings may each have their own memories of this story and that is okay.  Memories are just extractions of an event that occurred in the past and come back to us the way we remember them as well as the way we perceived them.  Because of this, each person will take a unique interpretation of the memory.  What follows is my own memory of this event and the significance it had for me.

I grew up in the farmhouse my parents and grandparents shared.  At the time this story took place, my grandfather was no longer alive and my grandmother was living in the upstairs of our farmhouse.  I and my two brothers were typical boys.  We tried to be good and most times we were kept so busy with farm chores, that we didn’t have a lot of time to get in much trouble.  But as boys will be boys, and no that is not an excuse, we would still find times to get in our share of trouble.

It would be at these times, exasperated by our behavior, that our mother would lay down the law and send us upstairs to our room.  I am not sure how this was really going to straighten us out but it seemed to be the law.

Upon arriving upstairs, grandma would take us aside and ask us what we had done this time?  Upon our confession, we would be given her sage advice on how we might have made a better choice had we thought about the consequences.  And then would come the sugar sandwich.  Grandma was always making homemade bread.  You know the kind, soft and chewy and warm enough to melt the butter she applied.  But grandma added an extra ingredient, a spoonful of sugar.

20171105_145120_001.jpg

After her advice was taken and sorrys were said, the sugar sandwich treat was ours to devour.  We would then be sent back downstairs to repent our behaviour, tell mom we were sorry and promise never to err again, or at least not for the rest of that day.  We always thought mom didn’t know about the sugar sandwich and that if she ever found out, it may have changed our punishment routine.  In some ways I have always wondered why the whole process didn’t cause us to seek out the punishment just to get the sugar sandwich.  Truth of the matter was, that as good as those sandwiches were, the lecture from mom and the reinforcement from grandma were enough to make us want to behave better.

If there is a moral here, and there are multiple morals, it is that children aren’t raised by just the parent.  The more we share the responsibility of inspiring our children, the more rounded they become.  A pun involving the sugar here comes to mind but that is not the “rounded” I am referring to.  There is value in the sage wisdom of grandparents, relatives and friends that can teach children perspective and help develop their opinions and ethics.  My grandmother knew how to get us to listen to the lesson.  In some ways, the sugar sandwich reminded me that I could be forgiven if I was willing to accept my responsibility.

In the day to day ups and downs, we can all use the occasional sugar sandwich to let us know we are still okay and still loved.  Try giving someone you care about a sugar sandwich.  Who knows, they might even take your advice.

Sweet Adela…about time I write to you.

Posted on by kwundrow

For the past three years my focus has been on Jackson.  That took a slight turn on March 14th, 2017.  You entered the world on Pi Day and I am having a hard time not nicknaming you Pi in honor of it.  Let me tell you, you wasted no time in arriving.  You were almost born in the hallways of the hospital.  Why do I suspect you will then be just as fast at everything from here on out.

You are an incredibly happy, incredibly patient and incredibly “give me a little face time here” sort of girl.  You have a smile that can melt my heart in an instant and you are constantly moving.  Nothing anywhere near your reach is safe and believe me we have learned that lesson far too many times already.

You are named after your great great aunt Adele.  The misspelling of your name is deliberate on your parents part as they do not want that heritage confused with the singer Adele who is quite a big deal right now.  Just ask Jackson about “Hello” sometime.  Your namesake was the keeper of the stories and the history of our family.  She never wanted to learn to drive but she rode a motorcycle for her 100th birthday.  She told stories right up to the time of her passing at age 101 though some of them will not be safely repeated much before your 18th birthday.  Adele was a feisty lady with all sorts of spirit.  I know you will live up to her reputation.

Adela, you are loved by everyone but no one more than Jackson.  He cannot let an hour go by without kissing your nose or your forehead and then giving you a squeeze or a hug.  He adores his little sister and is pledged to watch out for you always.  I suspect somewhere down the line you both will have your moments but for now it is all bliss.

Just a little over a month ago, you moved to your new home.  You were born a Madisonian but you are now a resident of Verona where I suspect you will spend most of your youth as you grow into the woman you are to become.

The Arch

We just returned from your first big adventure.  We took a road trip to St. Louis and you came along.  It was unbearably hot and humid but you were a trooper.  No fuss and plenty of smiles.  We saw an incredible museum that I am sure your daddy will want to take you back to for more adventures of your own.  We rode to the top of the Gateway Arch, 630 feet above the city, where you took in the sights from the carrier on your mommy’s chest.  But the big event was the eclipse.  Your Opa and Mimi waited 33 years to see the return of the eclipse and you have started your life in it’s repeat performance.  As we told Jackson, the moon swallowed the sun and for several minutes we were in darkness in the middle of the day.  We all put on special glasses, including you, and we watched the eclipse unfold.  I know you won’t remember this one but perhaps the next one in seven years.  We will retell this story over and over until you might actual feel like you do remember it.  Your great great aunt would be so proud of the story’s telling.  Through all of this, the driving, the sitting in the heat, the hiking to the site, you were a trooper. Never a whimper and never a fuss.

20170821_131347

20170821_131657

 

This is only the first of many stories yet to come, but it was time you had the beginnings of your story written down.  Know this, you and Jackson are both the focus of my attention now and you are both the love of my heart.  I can’t wait to watch you grow and I look forward to many more adventures to come.

I Was Childed

Posted on by kwundrow

I am flattered when the cashier of a grocery store asks to see my ID for the “adult refreshments” I am buying.  Given my age and even my appearance, I really don’t look that young, they are either strictly following the rules or playing on my ego.  One way I accept willingly, the other I suck up just as it was intended.

This weekend I will be inviting my 3 year old grandson, Jackson, to go on an outing with me to the movies.  I am hoping “Cars 3” just came out or is at least still playing as I intend to end my dry streak of missing out on Disney and Pixar films.  I have decided it is time to return to my inner child.

But I have this question.  If they card you to be sure you are old enough to buy the adult beverages, do they have some sort of screening for going to a Disney flick?  Now I am not talking about Jackson, I am referencing me.  I am imagining this scenario.  I go to a Disney film alone and when attempting to purchase my ticket, the usher states “Sir, I will need to see your child.”  I will then reply that I don’t have a child and that I was just wanting to take in the show.  Things will escalate to the manager who will explain that these movies are for children and that without the proper child escort, I am going to need to leave the establishment.  And there it is, I have been successfully childed.

Hopefully you have humored me to this point and are not ready to question my sanity.  I just find it an interesting premise on the other end of the scale.  I am looking forward to taking Jackson to the movies with me but I know that I could attend alone.  I would stand out and I am sure there would be questioning stares, but I would deal with it for the shear pleasure of enjoying the wonderful world of cartoons and especially the peppered seasoning of innuendos.  But why go alone when I can take a child.  Especially my grandson.

And so I will ask Jackson to come with me and when they child me, I will proudly point to Jackson and say “I think this one should do nicely.”  And then Jackson and I will settle into our seats with a big tub of popcorn and enjoy the wonders that Disney will lay out.  He will laugh appropriately while I will snicker at the innuendos and hope I will not be asked to explain.  And for an hour or so I will be back in time, sitting with my two daughters at my side savoring the memories and drinking in the emotions they evoke.

So go ahead AMC, child me.  Jackson I are ready and excited to entertain our inner child…and maybe some popcorn.

Jackson at Three

Posted on by kwundrow

You are three today and you are every bit the young lad I knew you could and would be.  In the past year you have become pretty sophisticated in so many ways.  You are starting to count and your ability to tell a story is getting more detailed every day.  And remember, storytelling is an important part of your Wundrow heritage.

This summer you went to Lake Tahoe and met many of your cousins for the first time.  While you were there, you taught them how to play “pool ball”.  They didn’t understand at first but by the end of the weekend they were in the swing of it.  I think you have a little bit of teacher in you too.

But all of this, as important as it was, pales compared to your new role.  You are now a big brother and you are proving every day how prepared you are for this new role.  Never has a little sister been watched over, cuddled, cared for and oh so loved as your Adela is by you.

You told me you had decided to call her “P” before she was even born.  When I asked you why, you explained it was for Pi.  Now having done this before she was born, how could you know she would come to us on Pi Day?  I guess when you are a brother, you just know these things about your sister.

I will look forward to the two of you growing up.  I hope that you will always take such good care of Adela and for that matter that you will treat all girls and eventually women with such respect.  Being a gentleman in this world has huge advantages.  Being respectful makes you a real man.  But more on that later.  We will need to talk again about this before you take your date to Homecoming.

You are three and ready to learn so much.  I for one hope to be part of those lessons and I hope that you will always be my buddy and come to me when you have those big questions.  You know, like “why is there air?” and “where did all the water in the ocean come from?”  I can’t always promise I will have the answer but I sure will enjoy exploring the possibilities.

Happy Birthday Jackson.  Know that you were always my first grandchild and that makes you just a little more special.

Stay curious.

So who will you be for Halloween?

Posted on by kwundrow

Halloween, that one day holiday where we dress up and celebrate All Saint’s Eve.  The history of the holiday is a whole story of its own but that’s not what I am focused on this morning.  You see I just returned from our Sunday morning church service and having dressed up as everyone was asked to do, this revelation found its way home with me.

Our minister had posed this question “If you could dress up as someone, who would it be?”  He had chosen Batman and had explained why that had significance in the moment and for him personally.  You know, super hero, good guy.  His point was that we all are someone else behind the mask we wear.

There I was sitting in the pew, dressed as the picture above shows.  It dawned on me, that if I looked in the mirror, it would be my father’s reflection that I saw.  On further contemplation, I also dawned on me that it was a more subliminal choice of costume than I had realized.

My father was by many an account, a relatively quiet person.  He went about his business and quietly made his way in the world.  He raised six children, ran a dairy farm and held multiple odd jobs in government and labor.  Even though we probably had far less money than many we knew, we never felt poor or wanting.  All the while, my dad was a man of service.  Service in the positions he held, service to his farm community and service to his church.  The quiet man left a huge footprint.

It was fitting that I had without thinking about it donned the clothes he would have worn and in that moment of contemplation, I had come to realize more than ever before, how much of an impression he had on my life.  So many things that we do in life, so many mannerisms and characteristics can be traced back to someone who left their imprint on our life.  I believe that with that realization comes a better understanding of who we are and maybe even who we are meant to become.  We reveal the someone behind the mask.

My question for you this Halloween is who would you dress up as?  No matter who it is, take a little time to consider the significance of your choice.  Then, remove the mask and try to become that person. My hope for you is that your choice will be some super hero with super powers and that you will strive to use those powers to become a super you.

Happy Halloween and thanks for reading.

Jackson Turns Two

Posted on by kwundrow

I want this to be my instruction manual for the up and coming two year old.  I will attempt to impart words of wisdom to the favorite little guy in my life.

Step 1:  Stay interesting.  Girls dig interesting.  The left handiness is a terrific start.  This will enhance your ability to visualize and to tell really great stories.  Not lies, just really good stories.  Or at least the ability to make retold stories even more interesting.  And when it comes to sports, confuse them when you stand on the other side of plate or drive the lane from their blind side.  And golf, well that opens up the whole other side of the course.

Step 2:  Be compassionate.  People gravitate to those who can be compassionate.  Compassionate people take care of others’ feelings.  This opens doors of opportunity.  I know that you have this trait because I saw it and I felt it while I was recovering.  You took care of me and watched out for me.  I see it too in how you share and play.  And I see it in the hugs you give Cayson and Bodie.  Real men can be compassionate.

Step 3:  Be genuine.  Know who you are and be the person you are meant to be.   A genuine man admits when he’s wrong, encourages others, defends principles and leads by example.

Step 4:  Discover, observe and learn.  I marvel at your powers of observation.  You watch and you learn.  We play “booma”, we observe the “moona” and there is no remote that can fool you.  As you grow, treat all new things this same way.  Oh yeah and did I mention, girls dig guys who can figure things out.

Happy 2nd Birthday Jackson.  You are my buddy and my inspiration.  You have rekindled my love of puzzles and my fascination with the moon.  I am already planning our first trip to the observatory on campus and the night we will lay beneath the stars and stare at the heavens.  Not sure how I got so lucky to have your mom and dad gift me with you but I am sure I will not waste a minute of the time we have together.

Adventures await us Jackson.  Follow the steps.

Love,

Opa

 

Being a Grandpa on being a Kid

Posted on by kwundrow

IMG_20160102_141028442_HDR

Why was I so afraid to become a grandfather?  Was it the sense of responsibility or was it just the word?  Was the title making me feel mortal as in “Oh my god I’m old enough to be a grandfather”?  I think in retrospect that the later was the case.  So this blog is for anyone that might be feeling the same way.  For me, it was Jackson who taught me how to lose that feeling.

Jackson is my first grandchild and with any luck, not my last.  That is in fact a hint if my daughters happen to read this.  I am Jackson’s Opa, apparently no one goes by the “grandfather” moniker anymore.  Even though Opa is the German form, I think Jackson might be Italian.  He has this knack of attaching the “a” sound to the ends of his important words like booma (puzzles, but that’s another story) and moona, his favorite sight, and so ona.  Maybe its the “a” in Opa.  But I digress.

Jackson taught me early on that my only responsibility, in fact any grandparent’s responsibility is to spoil your grandchild and teach them all sorts of clever but useless tricks.  I cannot wait until I can teach him the many variations I have created for the great card game 52 pick up.

If I was worried about responsibility, Jackson left me know that it was he that was responsible for me.  While rehabbing from knee surgery, Jackson sat with me every day.  He was in charge of my rehab, and in his own little way, cared for me and oversaw my exercises and made sure I was kept fed.  Grapes and cookies can do wonders for the healing soul.

And then there was that fear of being old.  But Jackson sees no age barriers.  When he wants to wrestle, we wrestle.  When he wants to build Legos, so will I.  And then there are the booma sessions.  He will sit me down, get my computer and I will be given no quarter.  We will do puzzles.  Instead of the dread of age, he has taken me back to my youth. Thank you Jackson, for showing me that life really can start over at 60, for I am a grandpa.  I am your Opa and I get to be young all over again.  Lesson learned.

If you are still reading this and are not yet a grandpa, get ready to be born again.  And if you already are …..well you get it.  So pick me up Opa, I’m ready to show you how to play again.