My Grandfather: Isidore Arthur Vermette

This is a photo of my Grandmother, Agnes and my Grandfather, Isidore. I never called them that, though...to me they were always Memere and Pepere.

Pepere never finished school, but I still think he was a genius. He could fix nearly anything, make nearly anything. Some of my fondest memories were watching him work with wood and make lovely things for my grandmother. I also enjoyed watching him weld, though I was not allowed to get too close during that process to protect my eyes.

He made one room houses into large homes. He fixed vehicles and altered them when necessary. He made at least one mobile home that I know of. When I was young, he made me a dollhouse and a nightstand, both of which I loved immensely. He couldn't sit still to save his life.

He was a prankster to the extreme and loved to "get" people. He was also a fantastic storyteller with a great sense of humor. He read Reader's Digest faithfully (and left it on the back of the toilet along with Guideposts so the rest of us could enjoy it, too!). He was lovable, but also fiercely tempered. I learned early on not to make him mad or break any rules around him. He was one of the hardest workers I knew. He could swear in two languages. He always knew how to do everything, and felt free to tell you how to do it.

He was a Catholic, and attended church every Sunday he could. His favorite hymn was "How Great Thou Art" and I loved to hear him sing it.

He and my grandmother raised six children...four girls, and two boys. Their names are Jeannette, Rita, Gloria (my mom), Richard, Norman and Susan. His biggest fights were with my Uncle Norman, their disabled son who lived with them their whole lives. Both were stubborn as mules.

When they were older, Pepere loved to watch HSN with my grandmother and buy her little trinkets. When my grandmother was at the end of her life, he cared for her the best he knew how, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

He was imperfect and riddled with faults and failings, and blessed with many talents. I love him with all my heart.

(Those cabinets behind my grandfather were built by him.) He died April 4, 2006, 4 years after his sweetheart died. He was 89 years old.

Is that Annie Oakley?

My mom recently posted this photo of my grandmother on facebook. I was so surprised when I saw it. I thought I knew everything there was to know about my grandmother. Needless to say, her life still holds a few surprises.

My grandparents moved to Twentynine Palms about 1942, and lived for a time in the Joshua Tree National Monument (now the Joshua Tree National Park). The home they lived in initially had no roof, and I grew up on stories about wild horses peeking over the walls and stealing food from the windowsills. My mother and her siblings sleeping on cots outdoors (because it was cooler than in the house), and awakening to discover coyotes sniffing them. Great stories that made my imagination run wild!

I knew life was tough for them. They lost everything in a fire on their way to Twentynine Palms. They were already blessed with many children by that point, and apparently to get by, my grandparents would shoot rabbits to help feed the family. Look at that monster! It's huge! And I never even knew or suspected that my grandmother could handle a gun...she was about four foot eleven inches tall first thing in the morning. She was kind hearted, practical, and had a great sense of humor. Apparently she was also a great shot!

This summer, I picked up a gun for the first time and after receiving some gun safety tips, had my first attempts at firing the gun. I had to overcome some fear at first. My 13 year old cousin Stephen was accidentally shot through the head by his best friend when I was about 15, so I've always been a little terrified of guns. Yet when I picked it up and fired, I discovered I was calm, cool, and collected, and a pretty darn good shot myself. Maybe in addition to inheriting my grandmother's voice, I also inherited her shooting ability! Still, you won't find me out shooting rabbits anytime soon.

Cherish

I've seen it a hundred times, maybe even more. The way a husband, wrinkled and worn from the cares of this world, holds tight to the hand of his wife as he looks with concern toward her. The caress of a wife as her husband of 48 years lies bedridden in hospital. The unspoken words that pass in a multitude of ways between a couple devoted to one another.

My own grandparents were an explosive couple. (Aren't they cute in this photo?) French Canadian and hot tempered, words flew between them like mad hornets. Yet I remember them speaking sweet words of love in French to one another as well, and singing love songs in both languages. They never went anywhere in public when they weren't holding hands. And while the words were often filling up the spaces of their life, plenty was said in the moments when no words were spoken at all.

What I love about these older couples is the sense that they not only love one another, but that they cherish one another. From my perspective, while our society is in love with being in love, we have forgotten what it is to cherish. That is what touches me so much about the moments I witness, at church, in hospitals, at restaurants, in senior villages...anywhere, really. The sense of accepting and loving a person as they have been, as they are right now, and as they will be tomorrow.

It's not just couples that should cherish one another. Brothers, sisters, friends...there are so many people in our lives that we have been blessed with. Time on this earth is short. And what we have of our time should be invested in truly discovering one another, letting ourselves be discovered, and learning to treasure our differences, our similarities, our connectedness.

For some of us, myself included, putting ourselves out there feels almost too risky, particularly after we've been hurt. However, relationships and people are worth it. The way that some people love is different from the way that we ourselves love. I try to remember in my own life that none of us "deserves" love...love is a gift! It is a gift that should be cherished.