Knowing Where You Come From

Grandmother & Granddad on their 80th birthdays

I just got back from a visit in Indiana, where my 94 y.o. grandmother resides in a nursing home. She's had a series of small strokes that have left her unable to talk very well. We believe her mind is there, because we see the expressive lift of the eyebrows and small tilt of the head, that let's us know she's answering the silly question we just asked, with a bit of mimed sarcasm.

My aunt has been my grandmother's caretaker since shortly after my grandfather's death in 1997. A series of hip replacements and poor healing had her moving in and taking on the role of nurse, along with daughter. And, with my mother's death in 2002, she took on the full load and responsibility without a whimper.

We know it's tiring, and that her life has been put on semi-hold as she does what she does, because it's "what we do" when it comes to family. So, I try to go down every once in a while and help out...as does my husband, and my soon-to-be 8 y.o.

We do what we do because it's "what we do."

Well, during this visit, my aunt (Sue) pointed out to me a letter she had come across. It was from one of my grandfather's former students. She had written my grandmother shortly after my grandfather's funeral.

Let me point out, at my grandfather's viewing I heard story after story about my grandfather; how he was tough, but fair; how he cared, and taught life lessons; how he was remembered with fondness and respect.

This letter details why... and the type of people I come from:

September 22, 1997

Dear Mrs. Beanblossom,

My grandparents best friends (left),
Grandmother and Grandad

I was sorry to learn about Mr. Beanblossom's illness and passing. Since that time I have thought often of him and what he meant to me. I'd like to share that with you.

I remember Mr. B as a very fair man, one who liked students and expected only the best from them. He was a good teacher and I enjoyed the time spent in his classroom.

His sense of humor I first saw the summer I was ten and he built the house my folks still live in. He teased my younger sister, Susie, and I -- but always in a a fun way. He would ask Susie, "Are you a Republican or a Democrat?" Her response was always, "I'm a bug!" Later when I was in eighth grade, Carol Bedimeister and I put a Democrat bumper sticker on his car. He laughed and took our teasing good-naturedly, and then, of course, took off the sticker! I learned from him how important it is to be a good sport.

During my "trials and tribulations" with one of our classmates, Mr. B was always there to mediate and calm me down. His quiet concern was always obvious--concern for me and probably more importantly, for my adversary who needed someone in her corner.

During my sixteen years as a teacher and now eleven as an assistant principal, I have tried to remember the lessons  I learned from Mr. B. Quite literally, I have more than once wondered what he would have done before I decided how to help a student or how to mediate for students who just couldn't seem to get along.

I might never have made a switch to school administration if I hadn't admired, respected and liked Mr. B so much. I always hoped that he was proud of my career and knew how important he was in helping to shape it.

Thanks for listening to my thoughts of Mr. B. I'm only sorry I didn't write this letter to him years ago.

Sincerely,
Micky Kaiser Lowe

My grandfather was a teacher, a principal and a superintendent... an academic his entire life, who also built homes, created beautiful antique reproductions, loved his girls with all his heart... and his grandchildren with the same warmth and care.

I am proud of my heritage, my family... all of them... but this letter inspired me to share it.