That’s what grandpa’s do

On February 16, 2008, in Uncategorized, by The News Staff

On The Silly Side by Jimmy Del Ponte

Jimmy_delponte(The opinions and views expressed in the commentaries of The Somerville News belong solely to the authors of those commentaries and do not reflect the views or opinions of The Somerville News, its staff or publishers.)

My grandpa was a proud Italian-American citizen and a World War I veteran. He was also a custodian at the old Bingham School. His name was Giuseppe, and he was my dad’s father. A lot of people just called him Joe. He started a long tradition of ‚ÄúJoes‚Äù in my family. There’s my Uncle Joe, the fireman and glass guy, and his son Joe. There’s also my brother Joe, the Harvard grad, and my son Joe – oh, and my cousin’s son Joe (my uncle Joe’s grandson).

My grandpa’s house smelled like cigars and we could always expect a squeeze on the cheek and a happy greeting whenever we visited. When we walked through the front door we were welcomed by grandpa’s familiar ‚Äúwell-a, well-a, well-a – nice-a, boy-a‚Äù and the big grandpa hug – hey that’s what grandpas do.

No thanks to poison gas during the war, grandpa only had one lung – although it was cool telling my friends that story while showing off his helmet. His back yard still has the grapevine that he made his wine from. My aunt Olga lives there to this day and the bottle capping gizmo he used in the wine making process is still in that cellar. Grandpa used to use Ballantine Ale bottles to put his wine into and I still have one of the last bottles in my kitchen today.

Shortly after we moved into our house near Davis Square in 1960, I remember my mother looking out the window and saying in a panicked voice “what in the world is going on?” Before we had even put in the driveway, a large City of Somerville DPW truck was backing into our yard over the curb and crushing through the bushes. We went out onto the back porch as the city truck dumped a huge load of concrete chunks in the yard. Mom yelled down at my father and grandpa who were supervising the dumping, asking what was going on Рand my dad yelled up “this is our new garden wall!” The concrete chunks were pieces of the old Davis Square sidewalk that had just been jack hammered.

You see, grandpa was Italian, which meant he was a pretty good stonemason, so for the next week, I watched grandpa and dad turn pieces of an old sidewalk into a beautiful retaining wall that is still standing today. My grandpa helped his son get his first home up and running, because that’s what grandpas do. The only thing that stinks is that the wall is still there, but the guys who made it aren’t.

Grandpas are awesome people – my dad was a good grandpa too. When my sister passed away, he took over caring for his 9-year-old granddaughter, Nikki. They became best friends who needed each other equally. He made her breakfast every morning, he fixed her hair and he took her to school everyday. She made him laugh, drove him crazy and kept his blood pumping. Grandpa delegated duties to the rest of the family. Cousin Carol and Auntie Olga were in charge of buying Nikki her clothes and providing the woman’s touch. I was in charge of picking her up after school and cooking supper every night (thanks to McKinnon’s and Shake and Bake). I was, and still am, in charge of scaring the boys away. The other aunts and cousins were also activated to be there in lieu of her mom and may I say they all did a damn good job.

But it was grandpa who was the ‚Äúgeneral in charge‚Äù of the whole operation – it was amazing to see a 72-year-old man completely take control of a situation and make sure this young girl had everything she needed. Did I mention that he also had to go to court every couple of weeks to ensure that Nikki stayed in his custody and out of harms way? Ahhh‚Ķthe golden years – but that’s what grandpas do. After a few years of running the show, grandpa’s loving heart gave out – Nikki was now 11. When we explained to her what was going on and that grandpa’s heart wasn’t working anymore she said tearfully: ‚Äúwell he can have mine.‚Äù Fade to 13 years later, Nikki went to Matignon High School and graduates from Salve Regina College – and grandpa looks down from above, smiling and saying, ‚Äúmission accomplished.‚Äù

So we have that garden wall in my backyard as a testimonial to my grandpa and a well-adjusted 25-year-old young professional woman as a testimonial to her grandpa. Both are sturdy, strong and enduring – thanks to the love, dedication and planning that went into each project – and that’s what grandpas do.

You can email Jimmy with comments directly at jimmydel@rcn.com

 

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