remembering my grandfather

It was a bittersweet Christmas this year, full of togetherness and fun, but also grief at the passing of my grandfather, Timothy Matlack Warren, on December 21.  It's hard to know what to say, but I'm going to try my hand at a few words, in honor of a man who loved to read words, and in part because I'm going to speak briefly at the service on Friday.



One thing that struck me from a young age about my grandfather was how fiercely he loved the people he loved, and how important it was to him to show those people how much he loved them. Some of my strongest memories of my grandfather are expressions of that love.

Every morning my grandparents would take turns making a breakfast tray in the kitchen, with their toast and their juice and coffee, and bring it up to bed, where they would sit and read the paper and quietly start their morning. This made such an impression on me - I think I've recounted this detail of my grandparents' life together to many friends over the years, with the observation that very few people know people who make time to share such a sweet moment every day.



For many of my childhood summers, Nona and G-Daddy would rent a wonderful house on Middle Road in Chilmark, on Martha's Vineyard. I really loved that house. I remember one summer my cousin Josh and I decided to re-write the words to a James Taylor song, and sing it to my grandparents while they had their breakfast in bed.  It must have been their wedding anniversary.  I think the song was "Shed a Little Light," and we changed "Let us turn our thoughts today to Martin Luther King" to "Let us turn our thoughts today to Nona and G-Daddy."  Not the most creative, but they loved it, of course. On some of those hot summer days, G-Daddy and I would walk down together to Lucy Vincent Beach; I don't really remember these walks, but G-Daddy told me many times how special they were to him, and now that I have kids of my own (and a daughter named Lucy!), I think I can appreciate exactly what he meant.

I was born on my grandparents' 35th wedding anniversary, so we spent lots of joint birthday/anniversary parties together.  For their 50th wedding anniversary, Nona and G-Daddy flew the extended family out to a ranch near the Sawtooth Moutains in Idaho. I have such a strong memory of my grandfather's toast to my grandmother. I don't recall anything he said, though I'm sure it was sweet, but what I do remember is how emotional and teary he was. My grandfather loved strongly and deeply, and he was not afraid to say it out loud.

Something I always admired about my grandfather was his ability to connect with people and the way he kept up those connections, even from afar. Many people know that my grandfather was a self-proclaimed "clipper," a habit he learned from his father, and he used to send me clipped newspaper articles that he thought I would find interesting - I always did and I loved getting them in the mail.

In his later years, G-Daddy adopted the more modern habit of sending emails, and he used to send me little notes of thoughts or memories he had. I have to admit that before I had kids, he was normally the one who initiated those little email chats. But after the birth of my son, I started sending him little notes too, telling him cute, rascally things the kids did. I think he loved those notes. I emailed him once to tell him that I was trying to teach my son, Bennett Timothy, named for his great-grandfather, to say his middle name, but all that would come out was "Timmy."  "I love that!" is what G-Daddy wrote back.  He said, "My mum used to call me Timmy!"  Since his death, it's been a comfort to me to read through all these emails. 



I don't know what else to say except that he was loved and that he will be greatly missed.  He always let us know that we were loved--he would send me little love poems on Valentine's Day without fail--and I know he delighted in his great-grandchildren, which really touched me.

This video was taken on Thanksgiving of this year, a day that G-Daddy rallied for, and the last time I saw him. He was thrilled to hold his great-granddaughter, Lucy, and started singing her a song that was sung to him, and that he sang to his own children. I made him do it again so that I could capture it on video. It's hard to watch without tears.