Random ramblings for Bob Petts

A sad and unexpected trip home this weekend has allowed me to spend some much appreciated time with my family. My grandfather passed away Tuesday night so I came home for the Friday visitation, mass, and funeral. You hate to use such an occasion to visit with friends and family that you haven't seen in such a while, but it was a comfort that we were all here to help each other through a difficult time.

Grandpa Bob passed while visiting with a friend who happened to be the mother of a girl I went to high school with. They were sharing stories of each other's grandchildren. He had just celebrated his 72nd birthday last week. Despite several heart attacks, bypass surgeries, and even losing a leg to vascular disease caused by years of smoking Camel unfiltered's and canned Spam, he maintained his quiet, resourceful, and friendly demeanor. Although he wasn't vocal about it he loved his children and grandchildren. Listening to stories at the funeral home as his friends poured through reinforced the picture of strength and stubbornness born from the 47 years he worked building bridges all over Indiana.

My white haired grandfather with the rugged Robert Redford good looks was certainly more black and white than gray, not so much a man who dealt in absolutes, but a man who would tell exactly what was on his mind. As serious has he seemed on the outside he was certainly a playful jokester. One of my favorite Grandpa stories happened last fall when I was home for Thanksgiving. He came over after a visit to the Knights of Columbus where he had gotten into an argument with one of his bar buddies about how much the St. Louis Arch would sway in the event of a large wind. He and I looked up the facts on the Internet, revealing that my grandfather had argued correctly that it was not more than a few inches as opposed to several feet. He requested I print out our findings so he could "prove that son of a bitch wrong." The satisfaction on his face and the twinkle in his eye at that moment will forever make me laugh.

I will never forget the Christmas Eve's at his place out at Squirrel Creek apartments - he loved having all of us in his living room and around his dining room table eating his potato soup and freshly sliced ham. He kept dog treats in his truck for our dog Emmy. I remember his old van with the duck tire cover and the mini-kitchen where I burned my finger on the cigarette lighter at least 8 times in my earlier years. Or never knowing if he was more comfortable with a hand shake or a hug, but always feeling happier that I gave the hug.

Men like grandpa don't come along too often - simple yet complex, stern but loving, rough around the edges but refined. Sure he made mistakes - don't we all? But he had a lot of the good stuff - grit, guts, love of life, and a charitable heart. God smiled on him yesterday with a beautiful day and to top it off he had a lot of friends and family celebrate his life.

Here's to you Grandpa Bob...