"Good to Hear From You."

 

Grandpa Zim in Yosemite National Park during the early 70's. Wasn't he handsome? This is one of my favorite photographs of him. I loved it when he'd wear his Levi's and boots. And just look at his smile. So warm and welcoming.

I wrote the following story in 2010. Grandpa passed away this past September a week before his 95th birthday. While I miss my grandparents terribly, I find so much comfort in all of the wonderful memories that I have of them. I was blessed to be loved by them.

"Good to hear from you."

by Marna Fahrney on Saturday, 27 November 2010

I think about my grandparents nearly everyday. I hear a song, catch a glimpse of my life growing up in their home, remember particular memories and usually that is where it ends. I wish I had the time, or made the time to call my grandpa every time I thought of him. Life gets in the way, work, home, cooking, cleaning. Too many weeks go by without hearing his voice. So, I pick up the phone and hope he understands that I love him just the same, even if I don't talk to him every week. In a perfect world, I would visit him in California every few months, call him weekly and send care packages of goodies every month. I have even thought of making him a member of the Marna's Cookie of the Month Club. If I could just follow through with my ideas...
I spoke to him today. If find it amazing that at 94, he is still sarcastic and funny. He sounded good, as if he were 30 years younger. It takes a bit to get the conversation going and occasionally there are a few silent moments but after the initial hello, the conversation flows and we talk about my busy life and his quiet, slow days spent sitting in his backyard or reading the newspaper. He always asks how my family is doing, and what the weather is like. I ramble on to try to make time stand still. I know that eventually, we will run out of things to talk about, so I linger on certain subjects a bit. We don't talk too much about grandma or how much he must miss her. We talk of fun memories, times together and shared interests.
Since I moved away, and my only way to talk with him is by telephone, he has always said the same five words at the end of every conversation; "Good to hear from you." I look forward to hearing those five words more than anything. He has never been the mushy, overly emotional type and while he does tell me he loves me, it is the other kind words, terms of endearment or sayings that I really yearn for. He has been the only constant father figure in my life, my rock, the one I knew I could count on and the one I never wanted to disappoint.
It's strange, after my grandma passed away, I was so afraid of forgetting her, what her voice sounded like, the look in her eyes, her essence. And the opposite has happened. I remember things daily. And now, with my grandpa, weeks can pass by without talking to him, and the moment he picks up the phone, and I hear his familiar voice, something happens inside me. I breathe deep, maybe a sigh of relief that he is there to answer my call and also, a calming and soothing presence surrounds me as we talk. Life is good, once again.
So, we end another phone call, he tells me to not work too hard, I promise to send him cookies for Christmas, and he says those five amazing words; "Good to hear from you."